


Frankly Enough

by g3rardway



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:31:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g3rardway/pseuds/g3rardway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would you do if you would find out your best friend hid a huge secret from you? What if the secret will change your life and friendship forever?</p>
<p>Frank Iero is your average sixteen year old high schooler and is a junior, just like his best friend Mikey, who kept his brother's existence a secret for ten years. Frank had shared every big and small detail of his complicated life with his best friend, though apparently Mikey's trust in Frank isn't that big. What will Frank do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One - Frank's POV

Ah! Friday. Lovely Friday. Good Friday. Friday, my good old pal.

The zooming noise of the school bell told us it was weekend, and as soon as I could, I was out the door. The teacher yelled at me that I wasn't dismissed yet, though I didn't care the slightest bit. I was going to have a sleep over and movie night with my all time best friend and I couldn't be anymore excited.

Sure, I was an outcast and everyone looked at me as if I wore a disease that could eliminate all the life forms on this earth, but I wasn't bullied. They didn't have the guts to fight someone who was twice their strength, yet half their length. They misjudged me in my first week as a freshmen and they won't make the mistake again.

I walked to my locker with a happy grin on my face and dumped my black patch-covered backpack in the hideous bright red locker -that was in fact taller than me- and smashed the door close, twisting the lock so no one could get to my precious skittles and some shitty books. I didn't care enough to do homework over the weekends.

\---

I walked through the door of the Way-household, through the door of what was basically my second family. The family I definitely liked better.

The Ways were with three: mother Donna, father Donald and their son Michael- or as he prefers to be called, Mikey.

Mikey has been my best friend ever since I first met him. The first time I met him, we actually hated each other.

I was carelessly riding my skateboard and he was throwing a ball with a kid who was three or four years older than us. As he ran to catch the ball, he got on the tile road in the middle of the park in Hoboken. I wasn't able to stop in time, so the six year old me hit the six year old Mikey on full speed.

He yelled at me, for causing him to fall, for causing his glasses to fall off, you get the picture. Yet, once he saw I had pretty deep cuts on the mouses of both of my hands, he helped me up and guided me to his mother, who took me home to take care of my hands. The somewhat older boy followed us, ball tucked under his arm and his hair covering his face as be slowly stepped in Mrs. Way's footsteps.

That was the day I lost my skateboard, to my mum's huge dislike and the first and last time I was the boy, who now, at the age of sixteen, still was the center of my attention and thoughts.

I wondered what his name was. Would he be an outcast, like me? How old is e actually? Was he really a little older or was he just mine and Mikey's age?

My train of thoughts were stopped by Mikey saying: "I think my brother is stopped by today. You probably don't know hi-"

"You have a brother?" I asked him calmly, scratching the back of my half-shaved head. He nodded and looked down to the ground. He was obviously blushing. Would it be out of shame of not telling me or out of embarrassment for his brother? I looked down at my feet, as well and heard the door softly open behind me. I didn't bother to look around who it was, it probably was just Donna or Donald.

"Yes, but I'm really embarrassed of him. Who wouldn't be embarrassed if the joke of the school was your brother." He sighed sadly and I heard the person behind me sigh as well, though I could obviously hear it was not Donna or Donald. I turned around to see who it was, but the only thing I saw was the door slamming shut.

"Mikey, I'm your best friend! How could you not tell me!" I swung my arms around frantically, though it hurt and I wrapped one arm around my chest, my other hand was pinching the bridge of my nose with thumb and index finger.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, with Mikey stuttering words that were too soft to hear whilst looking down at his shoes and me pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to order what just happened.

Who was standing behind me? Why did they leave? Where did they go?

"God, Michael." I finally groaned. "I need to go for a walk. I'll be back in an hour, maybe two." My voice was thick with annoyance as I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me. I was on my way to the park Mikey and I first met.

The park was now abandoned by the children and youngsters. You would see the occasional adult there, like one adult per hour. I hadn't been here in a while. The place now creeped the shit out of Mikey -I could understand why, the atmosphere was always dead and chilly-, so I always came here to think. It was nice and calm since everyone abandoned the park since the day a teenager girl -probably slut of the school- was brutally murdered in the park, in broad daylight.

The walk to the park went in a blur of thoughts and songs stuck in my head, which was rather strange because it was only a five minute walk. How could I have lost myself like that in five minutes?

The gates were more rusted than the last time I was here, making the silver metal some gross shade of brown that reminded me an awful lot of poop. The grass had grown to be longer and my foot just disappeared in the long green.

The wood of the slide was rotting away and the swing was near collapsing because of the rotten wood. I couldn't help but love this place.

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my too tight, black jeans and twirled in little circles while I made my way over to the biggest tree in the park, my favorite tree.

To my complete shock, there was a boy somewhere around my age sitting against my tree. His left side was facing me and his feet were placed steadily on the ground, with a sketchbook placed firmly on his knees. He had black, slightly gelled up hair and it was obvious the black was dyed. Small roots of brown were showing at his hairlines. The only thing of his hair that was gelled was his fringe, probably with the only goal of keeping it out of his face whilst he was drawing or doing something else. His nose was a little pointy, in a rather cute way, and his tongue stuck out a little of the side of his mouth. His eyes were focused on the sheet of paper and the pencil in his hand was making quick, sharp lines.

I flipped my fringe out of my face a little and slowly walked up to the lonely boy.

"Hey." I said softly. He jumped up and looked at me with big, hazel brown eyes. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a quickly nearing car. He looked as if some murderer was nearing him and he was ready to die. He looked sad. Depressed. Lonely.

He was dressed in a black shirt with a faded print on it, but the looks of it say it was a very old "Free Hugs" shirt. His legs were clad in skin tight, black denim and fully black Vans were on his feet. Signs of a silver studded belt were showing under his shirt. He would be the kind of kid I would hang out with.

"H-hello." He stuttered out, barely audible. I shot him a smile and he just simply looked back down at his drawing. His pencil long forgotten beside him, he was twiddling his thumbs. He looked nervous.

"Can I sit?" I asked, unsure of what his answer would be. He looked back up at me again and nodded his head. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes showed less fear than the first time he looked up.

I slid down next to him and leaned my head back against the tree. "So." I awkwardly said. "What are you drawing?" I looked at the sketchbook in his lap, which had his hands on it to cover his drawing. It was either not ready or he was embarrassed about his drawing. Stains of black nail polish cluttered on his tiny -obviously bitten- nails.

"N-nothing." He stuttered again. He was cute when he stuttered. I decided I liked his voice. It was soft and warm, it was how a home was supposed to feel. I could tell he had something to hide from the way he had his arms hugged to his waist tightly with the sketchbook propped up somewhere in the middle.

"Okay, then. Where are you from? I've never seen you around before." I looked at him, showing that I was truly interested. He seemed to relax a little under the sight of my reassuring grin.

"I-I live in a-a small apartment in New Y-York. I go to c-college there." I jumped up a little in excitement.

"Oh, cool! What college are you in?" I was grinning to wide, it hurt, but I didn't care. I wanted to get to know his (to me) nameless boy.

He relaxed a little more and answered: "I'm in the School for Visual Arts, also known as the SVA." He managed to answer me without stuttering, though he did swallow in the middle of the sentence.

"That's so cool! Can I see your work?" I was now on my knees beside him, almost jumping with enthusiasm. He giggled soundlessly and handed me his sketchbook.

My earlier conclusion was indeed right. He wore a faded "Free Hugs" shirt. I flipped through his sketchbook and squealed in awe. This drawing were amazing. I could see why he was in the darn school.

His drawing were misty of vampires and werewolves. They were detailed and fine. When I came to his current drawing, my heart practically stopped beating.

The drawing was of him, hanging on a tree from a rope. His face was lifeless. He was wearing the same outfit as he currently was. I let out a small, sad noise and laid the sketchbook down, making sure not to make any of the papers dirty.

The boy was now staring down, to his hands. By the shaking of his shoulders I could tell he was holding back the urge to cry.

"What about that free hug your shirt promises me?" I point at his shirt. "Would you like it now?" He nodded lightly and looked up. Eyeliner was smudged under his eyes and there was a lone tear making its way from his eye to his chin. The tear was slightly off though, because it ran over his nose in stead of his cheek.

I lightly grinned at him and wiped the tear off his nose with my thumb. I then pulled him close to me, my left hand on his back and my right hand in his hair. His hair was soft. I nuzzled into his hair and hold him a little tighter, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay to cry." As soon as I spoke these words, I felt a pair of weak arms wrap around my waist and he placed his head on my shoulder. His shoulders began to shake and he choked out a heartbreaking sob. "Sssht. It's okay. I'm sorry for whatever happened to you. I'm sure you're a great guy." I started to continuously run my thin fingers through his soft hair.

The fabric of my Nirvana shirt was wet and sticky on my shoulder, because of all the tears he was shredding, though I didn't care about it. I would sit here all day if that would calm him down. I would talk to him all night if he'd ask me to. I felt strangely caring about this boy who I just met five minutes ago, and I'm also strangely okay with it.

After something that feels like ten minutes, he slowly begins to pull back after calming down a little.

"I'm so sorry." He chokes out. "You weren't supposed to see that. I should've ripped it out and ma-" I cut him off by pulling him in another hug.

"It's okay, I swear." I ran my hand through his hair a few more times and then let him go, sitting on the back of my heels. "Can I ask you one favor, though?" He looked up at me with sad eyes.

"What?" He shocked out.

"Can you please stop doing that?" I asked him, while grabbing his arm which was full of red, pink and white lines. He shook his head and pulled his arm back from my grip.

"I can't promise you that." He looked down at his arms -which were now wrapped around his waist.

"Then try. Even you'd just try, that would mean the world to me." I tried to sound convincing, though I was sure the worry and urge to cry were thick in my voice. He tilted his head slightly, probably thinking. It made him look like a confused puppy.

"Okay." He said after severe minutes of thinking. "I'll try. But I won't promise." I let the grin I was holding back spread out on my face and engulfed him in another hug.

"Can I have your phone number?" I asked him, scratching the top of my head. He nodded and reached for his bag. He dived up a Sharpie and wrote his number on me held out arm with the permanent marker. When he was done I smiled at him. "What name do I put it under?"

"Gerard Way." I felt my mouth fall open. Shit, he was Mikey's brother? Oh, man... I wonder why Mikey's so ashamed of his terrific guy...

I took the Sharpie from his hand and grabbed his arm. I wrote down my number over some white lines and wrote "xø Frank Iero" under it.

I then gave him his Sharpie back and stood up. I kissed his cheek -I tended to do that with friends- and then started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" I heard him ask helplessly.

"I'm going to lecture your little brother. Please be home in thirty minutes max, or else I will hunt you down until I get your ass home. You will not hurt yourself. Not today." He smiled at my words and stood up, too. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled me close in a hug.

"Thank you, Frank." He said when we broke apart. "Thank you for caring even though we just met. I'll come home ten minutes after you left, okay?" I nodded.

"That sound like a deal." I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek again -don't laugh, he's a lot taller than me- and he returned the favor, making me blush as I turn away and yell a "bye" and wave my hand backwards.


	2. Chapter Two - Gerard's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you would find out your best friend hid a huge secret from you? What if the secret will change your life and friendship forever?
> 
> Frank Iero is your average sixteen year old high schooler and is a junior, just like his best friend Mikey, who kept his brother's existence a secret for ten years. Frank had shared every big and small detail of his complicated life with his best friend, though apparently Mikey's trust in Frank isn't that big. What will Frank do?

I watched Frank run out of the park in top speed. I was really scared for what he would say to Mikey. I just hoped he wouldn't hurt my little brother too much... From the things I heard when I had locked myself up in my basement bedroom, Frank seemed to have some serious anger issues.

I rummaged through my backpack after shoving my sketchbook in it, pencil stuck in the ring binding. After a while I found my old iPhone in the small pocket on the front of the damaged bag. The screen of my phone was cracked and the software was from before the Stone Age, but that was okay. It gave me access to Internet and it gave me the ability to contact the few friends I have.

After saving Frank's number in my phone as "Frank I.", I stood up and cleaned the back of my jeans from where I had been sitting on dead, dried leafs. I looked up at the bright blue sky and sighed. Summer holidays where soon and I had no one to do anything with. But that's okay, I'll just lock myself in my apartment for the weekdays and in my basement bedroom in the weekends.

I picked my denim jacket up from where it had been laying under my backpack, making the backpack flip over and spill that what was inside of it over the dried leafs as well. I groaned and repacked my backpack after shrugging the dirty, dark denim jacket over my shoulders. It was pretty warm outside, but I had to keep my skin protected from the sun. A tan doesn't look all too good on me and I get sunburnt easily. Too easily, almost.

Two to three minutes had passed and I knew Frank would be in my childhood home by now. I grabbed my backpack by the loop on top and slowly made my way to the rusty iron gates. I dug in the left pocket of my jacket and dove up my almost empty pack of Marlboro and a hot pink lighter. I grabbed a cigarette, seeing I now had only two left in the large package. Well, shit. I frowned at the package and then shoved it back in my pocket.

I carefully lit the cigarette, cupping my hand over the flame from the hot pink lighter to shield it from being blown out by the wind. Once the cigarette was lit, I focused on smoking it. I focused on how long I inhaled the smoke, how long I kept it in my lungs, when I had to blow it out and how long I had to wait between the drags I took. All was set for two seconds, as it always was.

I had a thing for the number two. Wether it was minutes, seconds, hours, days, years or a number of subjects, I had a thing for the number two. I waited two minutes after Frank left before I followed him. There's two seconds between exhaling the smoke from my cigarette and taking a new drag from the nicotine that was going to kill me one day. I was strangely okay with the thought of being killed.

Kids were playing on the streets on their toy scooters. The boys had foam guns, reacting some sort of a war. Most likely an imaginary band. I decided to ignore the children around me. I lost my thoughts to Frank.

Would Frank become one of my friends? That'd mean I had three friends which would mean I had to drop one of the two I have in college, because Frank seems to care way more than the two of y college friends combined.

My college friends new about my depression, my self harming and my suicidal thoughts, though they had never made an effort to help me out the slightest bit. Always had I thought that that was normal friendship, because they had been my only friends for years and their form of friendship was the only one I had ever knows.

Only certain things had a maximum of one for me. I could only smoke one cigarette in two hours, I could only have one coffee per half an hour. I could only be in one relationship at a time as that was fair to the one who had won my heart over. I had only been in one relationship so far, but it ended as soon as I found out I was emotionally attracted to the poor girl, the way I was attracted to my friends. I thought she was hot, but not bangable. I refused to let her take my virginity, which she got really offended over. She refuses to talk to me for two weeks after that happened and in the meantime, I spend the time I would normally spend with her in the bar. That one horrendous bar that made me realize I was never really attracted to her and that made me realize I have never been attracted to a girl, that I never will be attracted to a girl, that made me realize I was attracted to boys and boys alone.

I explained this to her, and I explained that I broke up with her because of this. Her being a cheerleader in high school, told the jocks about my little secret, though she had promised me it would be out dirty little secret.

It wasn't. I was happy at the time, not much of an outcast, always dressed in a pastel colored shirt and normal jeans. Though I was treated as an outcast, so I had decided to dress and act the way I felt inside. Inside of my head and heart it was black, I felt depressed and black was the best color of clothes to express this.

The burning tip of my cigarette then suddenly hit my fingers, telling me that it's finished. I his in pain and drop the cigarette. I step on it and wave my hand a little to cool the warm pain. I also notice I'm standing in front of my house. I take a deep breath and walk up to the porch, opening the door that is only locked in the night because there's always someone home.

As my hand touches the doorknob, I could already hear Frank and Mikey yelling. I open the door to find out that they are upstairs. I quietly make my way up the stairs, to hear their argument.

"-hide your brother from me? He's an amazing guy and you're a fucking idiot for being embarrassed of the guy that obviously needs the support of a loving brother!" I heard Frank's furious voice. I could almost hear him throwing his arms up in the air to get his point clear.

"I'm sorry, Frank. I was just scared you'd get in an argument with him." I heard Mikey sighs.

"An argument? An argument? The only one who is getting in an argument with me is you like three times a week, for stupid causes like this!" Frank yelled angrily.

"Yes, Frank. Play the victim. Of course, I cause all of these fights." Mikey said skeptical. "It has nothing to do with your anger issues and your temper that's always there." Oh, Mikey, I don't think that was a smart move.

"I'm done with this friendship!" I heard Frank yell. I had just enough time to step back from the door before it swung open, showing an angry Frank. I expected him to run home, but to my surprise, he ran to the guest room.

"Idiot." I muttered under my breath, directed to Mikey. He understood it was to him and looked at me with a furious expression.

"Said the one who huddled himself up in his room in self pity." He said, before slamming the door shut with a loud bang. I could hear my mom groan downstairs in a not again manner.

Mikey's right, though. I decided to ignore him and made my way over to the guest room, where Frank huddled himself up. I opened the door after knocking and to my big surprise, posters cluttered the wall and clothes were all over the room. A typical teenage boy bedroom. Wait, Frank lived here? I looked around for Frank, but what caught my attention was a shaking ball under the black blankets. The ball made noises as if it was crying. I walked over to the bed and saw a black fringe laying on the white pillow, the rest of the boy who it belonged to under the blanket.

"Frank?" I whispered. The blanket moved and Frank sat up, looking at me with extremely sad eyes. The blanket was now wrapped around his shoulders and he held the ends together with his hands. Eyeliner was smudged under his eyes, the eyeliner I didn't notice before because of the color of his eyes. His eyes were so beautiful. They were a mix of brown and green and they had some light flecks of golden in them. I was pretty sure I could lose track of time by staring in his eyes.

Frank's nose was red and he was sniffing every three seconds. Yes, he was definitely crying. I dropped my backpack on the ground next to his bed, followed by my jacket. I sat on his bed, crossed legged, and pulled on the ends of the blanket he clung onto as if it was his source of life and made sure his head fell on my shoulder.

Once his head hit my shoulder, I wrapped my arms around his back, holding on tightly to the fabric of the blanket. I felt his hands grab a hold of the front of my shirt and his shoulders started shaking all over again. I made shushing noises in his ear as he cried his heart out. As sad as it was to see him like this, I smiled a little to myself. A few minutes ago he was shushing me while I was crying my eyes out on his shoulder.

After a few moments he sat back on the bed after assuring me it was okay and that he was okay.

"Why were you crying like that, Frank?" I looked at him with a serious expression on my face. He simply wiped his nose and looked down to his hands.

"Well." He choked out, his voice raspy. "Mikey and I have a lot of fights and after every fight I'm so scared that I have to go back home. I don't want to go back home, Gerard. My mother is awful and abusive and I don't even know where my father is most of the time and they're always arguing and I don't want to go back, Gerard. Please, make sure I don't have to go back." I looked at him with sad eyes. While he was saying the last sentence he broke down to tears again. I felt sorry for him. So damn sorry. I ran my hand through his hair and tilted my head slightly.

"You go and calm down, and I'll go talk to mum for you, okay?" He nodded at my words and let himself crash down onto the bed again. I giggled and rested my hand on his shoulder. "Get some sleep, maybe. You look exhausted." He nodded again and wiggled so his head was resting on the pillow. He closed his eyes and I stood up from the bed, going downstairs to talk to mum.

\---

“Oh, then would you like to be send back home where you will get beat up for sure for no fucking reason at all? No didn’t think so.” I put my hands on my hips, looking at her with narrowed eyes. I couldn’t believe she’d do something horrible like that to someone amazing like Frank.

“But Gerard, I’m tired of their forever fighting!” She stood up from the kitchen chair she was sitting in, laying the newspaper she was holding on the table.

"But mum, he's got nowhere to go! You can't send him back to where he ran away from!" I threw my arms up to make my point more clear.

"Fine." She sighed. We'd been arguing for ten minutes about this subject. "But I'm taking him to the doctor to see if he can get medication for his anger issue."

"Fine."

“Dinner is ready at six.”

“Whatever.” I huffed, stumping up the first two steps of the stair, but quickly stopped after I realized Frank might be asleep now. I pushed open his bedroom door and saw that he had turned around, his back now facing the door. His head was barely visable because he had huddled himself up in his blanket again. Once I was near his bed, I heard a soft noise that I could only place as snoring. I smiled down at the smaller boy and fought the urge to lay down next to him or to run my hands through his hair again.

I liked his hair. He had a streak of longer black hair and both sides of his head were shaved (not bald, just short) and the shaved sides were dyed a fiery red. He also had this lip ring, which I had seen him suck on multiple times now –four times I think- and his nose ring made his cutely shaped nose stand out, though not in an ugly, annoying way. He had a cute nose. It was a little pointy, yet the tip was curved softly. I couldn’t bring myself to understand why someone would possibly want to hurt this boy. Sure, he had his anger issues, but I think those issues might have been caused by what was done to him in a past. Maybe he got them because he saw his mum and dad fight a lot. They probably had anger issues. Or maybe one of them, but I’m so sure he doesn’t got it from a stranger.

I decided against my urge to lay down with him. I decided to draw him. To draw how perfectly innocent he looked. How there was no sign of his breakdown he just had to be seen on his face, apart from dried tears on his cheeks. A lone tear dripped over his nose and fell on the pillow. I stood back, fully on my feet. It was creepy to watch people sleep, no matter how peaceful they look when doing so. I liked the change of his facial expression. I’d only seen him sad and worried, simply no in between. I also realized I wouldn’t mind waking up to that every morning.

Shit, Frank doesn’t know I’m gay, right? Oh, fuck, what if he turns out to be some homophobic kid? What if he will be disgusted with me? What if he wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore? I felt my breathing growing heavier at the thoughts of Frank hating me. Hell, what was I worrying about, I just met the kid an hour ago. That’s when it hit me.

I just met the kid an hour ago and he alreadty knew a part of me that I so desperately tried to hide from my younger brother. I didn’t want Mikey to get involved in my shit. I couldn’t do that to him and to mum and dad. I simply couldn’t.

I bend down to my backpack and grabbed my sketchbook from it, the pencil still in the metal ring binder. Frank stirred and turned around. I smiled at the mumbling noises he made and flipped to an empty page, pencil clenched between my teeth. I sat crossed legged on the ground, a meter away from Frank, and then started roughly sketching his features.

\---

“Gerard?” A weak voice mumbled. The voice was thick with sleep and something that seemed to be fear.

“Yes, Frank?” I looked up from my now detailed drawing. I was nearly finished. I saw that Frank had his eyes slightly open, not quite ready to deal with the blinding light yet.

“What’re you doing?” He closed his eyes again, still tired. I heard my mum yell something downstairs and looked at the time on my iPhone. 6PM. She probably called for dinner being ready. I yelled an “okay” and turned back to Frank.

“You can stay, but you have to go to the doctor with my mum soon to see if he can get you anything for your anger issues.” Frank nodded understanding. “And to answer your question, I was drawing you whilst you wear sleeping. I was bored and I didn’t want to leave you alone. Also, dinner is ready.” He threw the blanket off of him and sat up, slightly rubbing his eyes. I put my sketchbook on the ground, with the drawing of Frank sleeping showing up.

“Holy shit, Gerard.” I heard him gasp. I looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“That drawing is fucking amazing! I actually like my face in that drawing! You’re a great artist!” He stood up, mouth open and looked down at my drawing. “You made me look so much better than I actually do.” He added softly.

“No, the drawing is ugly, you’re beautiful.” I whispered to my thumbs in my lap.

“What was that?” Frank asked me, turning around to me.

“I said we should head downstairs. Dinner is waiting for us. By the smells of it, it’s spaghetti, my favorite.” I looked up at him with my head tilted and my left eye clenched shut. I didn’t know why I did that. Just a habit, I guess.

“No way!” Frank exclaimed happily. “That’s my favorite, too!” I giggled and stood up, following Frank as he was already downstairs. He had a small skip in his step. It was cute. He was cute.

\---

“You sure spaghetti with nothing but tomato sauce and cheese is your favorite food?” I giggled as I flopped on my back on Frank’s bed. He shook his head. That’s what I thought.

“I like vegetarien lasagna the most. Man, your mother makes the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted in my life!” He flopped down onto his bed next to me, only he was laying on his side, elbow propped up under his head so he could look me in the eye. I yawned loudly.

“Vegetarien, huh?” I asked him.

“Yeah, it’s not fair how people treat animals, only to make food out of them that can be perfectly replaced. I only eat vegetarien meat. Twice the taste but without any animals getting brutally mudered.”

“I like the way you think. I’ve been a vegetarien for that exact reason since I was fourteen.”

“Hey, me too!” Frank’s beamed a smile at me, which I happily returned to him.

“Can I ask you something about something that happened in that park?” I looked at him, my smile turning into a frown.

“Is this about the cheek kissing?” I nodded my head, frowning a little less. “Don’t worry, it’s a thing I tend to do with friends. I do it with Mikey all the time, like when he goes to bed or goes on a date or something.” I nodded, slightly dissapointed. “It’s my lame way of showing that I care for someone.” Now he was frowning as well.

“I think you have a cute way of showing people that you care.”

“That’s cute of you to say.” He pinches my cheek with his index finger and thumb. “Gerard, I was wondering…” He stopped mid-sentence. I turned my gaze back at him and looked him in his eyes. In his absolutely gorgeous eyes.

“Whaaaat?” I asked him, my lips forming a small grin.

“Could you maybe sleep here with me? I don’t like sleeping alone much and I usually sleep in bed with Mikey on the weekends but I don’t see that happening now…” He said, so soft it was barely a whisper.

“Sure.” I said happily. “But you’d need to know one thing before you let me sleep in your bed with you.” I looked at him with a serious look on my face.

“Tell me.” He looks excited and interested at the same time as he lightly smiles at me.

“I’m gay.” I said, not daring to look him in the eyes any longer. I felt he just simply shrugged.

“That’s okay. I think I’m gay, too. Either that or I’m bisexual with a strong prefrence for boys.” He said. I smiled and sat up.

“In that case, I’d better go change into my pajamas. Be right back.” I hopped off his bed and grabbed him jacket and backpack (with sketchbook in it) and jogged down the stairs.

“What are you so happy about?” My mum’s curious voice echoed through the hallway.

“I’m spending the night with Frank.” I said and beamed a smile at her.

“I’m glad to see you this happy, but do you think that’s a good idea with the whole sexuality thing?” She slightly tilted her head while asking me. I now see from who I got it.

“Yes, Frank’s okay with that and he really doesn’t mind.” If it was possible for me –the kid who rarely smiles- to get an even bigger grin on my face, it would’ve happened after I finished that sentence.

“Okay, honey. Have fun. I’m glad you’re making friends.” She smiled a genuine smile at me and ruffled my gelled up hair when she passed me. I groaned at her softly but then quickly turned around and opened the door that led to my basement bedroom. I locked the door behind me and jogged downstairs.

There still were some Batman pajama pants on my bed from when I was here at Christmas, paired with a plain black oversized shirt. I quickly shot out of my clothes and in to my pajama. I then immediately jogged back upstairs.

“So I guess Frank’s sleeping with you tonight?” I heard Mikey ask me in a small, sad voice. I turn around to see him standing in door opening, a sad look on his face.

“Yes.” I answered him. “But I’ll make sure he’ll sleep with you tomorrow.” I walked over to him and ruffled his already slightly messy hair. “Goodnight, baby bro.”

“What? It’s only 7PM!” He exclaimed, some sort of confusion on his face.

“Frank and I are going to watch some movies and I’ve already seen chips and coca cola in his room.” I gave him a last smile and kissed him on his cheek.

“Okay, goodnight. Please, tell Frank I’m not mad at him anymore?” He added with a soft voice.

“Will do, baby bro.” And then I walked away. I walked to the other side of the hall and opened and closed Frank’s bedroom door after walking in.

“Hey, we match!” He yelled excitedly, pointing at his Superman pajama bottoms and plain blue shirt. I chuckled and walked over to his bed, laying down next to him. He was laying on his left ride, back against the wall. As I laid down, he bend over me, grabbing something from under is bed. He dove back up with a black Toshiba laptop in his hand and placed it on my lap after pulling the blankets over the both of us. Frank started his laptop and before I realized, he put on A Nightmare Before Christmas.

“I hope this movie is okay with you?” He asked me, shooting me an uncertain grin.

“Yeah, man, this is my all time favorite movie.” I happily said, beaming him a grin. Man, this kid is sure as hell causing me to laugh a lot. I guess that’s just what fun people do to you.

“I’m glad about that.” He turned up the volume and then draped his right arm over my stomach. I was confused at first but as soon as he laid his head down on my chest, I understood he was a cuddly type. I shifted a little so I could move my right arm across his shoulders, my hand in his soft hair. My other arm was around his waist and he held the fabric of the side of my oversized shirt with his left hand.

 

Yeah. I thought to myself. I could get used to this.


	3. Chapter Three - Frank's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would you do if you would find out your best friend hid a huge secret from you? What if the secret will change your life and friendship forever?
> 
> Frank Iero is your average sixteen year old high schooler and is a junior, just like his best friend Mikey, who kept his brother's existence a secret for ten years. Frank had shared every big and small detail of his complicated life with his best friend, though apparently Mikey's trust in Frank isn't that big. What will Frank do?

I woke up to a light snoring sound under me. Probably Mikey, I thought to myself. The next thing I'd noticed was that my right knee was brushing over something hard. Probably Mikey, I thought again. Mikey and I often had some awkward wake up moments at nights I had clung to his body. I tend to twist and turn and shirt a lot in my sleep, especially when I'm having a bad dream, and that would occasionally result in Mikey waking up with a boner, caused by my knee. Mikey never had the morningwood problem, though. Lucky bastard.

The person underneath me shifted and groaned softly. I snuggled myself back into their chest and hummed in content. I subconsciously rubbed my knee over the same area again and closed my eyes as it was still dark in the room whilst the curtains were not closed. I guessed it was somewhere around 2AM. I am desperate for a pee.

I reached behind my leg where I felt the heat of my laptop burning in my calves and climbed over the person, placing my laptop back under my bed. I raced -as quiet as possible- to the bathroom and did my thing. God -who the hell knew taking a pee could be so relaxing and relieving.

I walked back in my bedroom, to find out it wasn't Mikey I gave a boner and slept on, but Gerard. I felt my cheeks growing pink in embarrassment. I gave a hot boy a boner. I decided to study the sleeping body that was Gerard in the slight light the moonlight gave me. His black hair was sprawled out on the pillow and he was slightly twisted on his right side. His left arm was on his hip and his right arm was under his head, as some sort of a pillow. His shirt that looked slightly big on him was ridden up due to the fact that he had one arm stretched out to above his head. His mouth was slightly open and the expression on his face was nothing but peaceful. He looked absolutely adorable.

I made my way to my bed again and climbed over Gerard, again. I snuggled into his side and let the sleep take over me again after I pulled the blanket back to under my chin.

\---

I woke up to a singing voice coming from the shower in the small bathroom attached to my bedroom. I used the one downstairs in the night in fear of maybe waking Gerard up.

Cause I'm in too deep and I'm trying to keep

Up above in my head instead of going under

Cause I'm in too deep and I'm trying to keep

Up above in my head instead of going under

Instead of going under

I guessed it was Gerard who was taking a shower and marveled at his singing voice. It was so damn good. I was so going to confront him with this when he comes out.

Seems like each time

I'm with you, I lose my mind

Because I'm bending over backwards to relate

It's one thing to complain

But when you're driving me insane

Well then I think it's time that we took a break

I recognized the lyrics as Sum 41's In Too Deep and laid back on my bed, closing my eyes in admiration of his voice. I pulled the blanket over myself again and felt the sleep pull me back in its grip on me. I was awoken from my "sleep" by Gerard, clad in boxer briefs and jeans. His boxer briefs were pulled up higher than his jeans and they were pink, which make me chuckle, and the only thing keeping his jeans from falling down was his ass. His hair was towel-dry, some of the damp locks pushed behind his ears and some nicely framed his pale face.

"Wake up, buttercup." He said in a whisper tone as if he was almost scared to wake me up. He then leaned over me, seen as he probably hadn't noticed my slightly opened eyes yet, and shook my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his waist and turned roughly, so he was next to me on my bed.

"No." I muttered like a toddler, burying my head in his bare chest. The pale skin felt soft and warm against my slight stubble. What the hell am I doing, I barely know the guy.

"That was quite a morningwood to wake up to, Frank. Was that on purpose?" He then asked me. I violently shook my head against his chest and he hissed quietly. "Shit, Frank, that hurts. Go shave your face and then you can cuddle into my chest." He then gave me a playful shove, but the slow prick I am, I didn't see it coming and fell of the bed. I landed on the ground with a loud groan, still wrapped up in my blanket as some sort of a human burrito. "Go and take a shower and then I'll take you to Starbucks before I have to go back to my dorm."

I snapped my head up so I could look him in his eyes. "Wait, you're leaving today already? Why?" He smiled sadly at me.

"I need to check if my roommate hasn't drunk himself to death and I still have some coursework that's due this week. You probably have homework, too." I bursted out in laughing.

"No, no, no." I spluttered once the laughing was ebbing away. "Frank Iero does not do homework on. Especially not if the finals are already done." From where I was laying, I could see his thin lips curve in a smile. He rolled over to his side, leaning on his elbow. I sat up on my knees and decided to study his chest.

He was rather skinny and his collarbones stood out a little. His chest was pale. Very pale. Even his nipples were a little pale. He had a bit of a muscular stomach and his arms were very muscular, as well, I then realized. My legs were uncomfortable under me, so I sat myself cross legged in front of the bed as Gerard sat the same way on the bed. I noticed a weird spot on his left collarbone. I sat on the bed next to Gerard, on his left side and narrowed my eyes. The weird spot was a faded purple hickey.

"Gerard?" I giggled. He made a "hm?" noise. "Is that a hickey?" He placed his right hand on his collarbone.

"No." He said firmly, trying to sound convincing. It didn't work. I pealed his hand off of his skin and inspected the hickey from close by.

"I guess it's about half a week old and it tells me you're a bottom." I said, my voice remaining serious.

"I am not a bottom." Gerard fake gasped. I simply ruffled his hair and said: "sure, honey."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? You're offended now? Wuss." And with that, I sprinted into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Time to shower.

\---

"Just a small regular coffee and nothing to eat? Why the hell are we in Starbucks, if I knew this we could've just gone to the coffee shop at the corner of the street!" I exclaimed, rather shocked, as Gerard and I sat down in a booth in Starbucks, opposite from each other. He simply shrugged.

"I'm not that hungry and I were really excited about the Starbucks thing." He said calmly. I smirked down to my caramel frappé and piece of apple pie with whipped cream. What's apple pie without whipped cream? That's right, nothing.

"Thank you for paying. That's really nice of you." I smiled up at him, unintentionally closing one of my eyes as I looked him in his eyes. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, causing me to smile a little brighter.

"That's just what friends do, Frank." He stated with a shrug.

"Really? I've never had friends before, apart from Mikey but he only goes to the comic and record stores when he's not at home."

"Don't be sad, cheer up, buttercup. How about we go to the comic store after and you can search out a comic?" He slightly bit his lower lip. I felt my eyes grow wide at his offer and my mouth slightly dropped open.

"No!" I exclaimed. "That'd be mean! You'd buy me a drink, food and a comic and all I do would be making fun of your hickey! No. That's not fair. Let's go straight home after." I was shocked by his offer, to be honest.

"Whatever, Frank, I still need the latest issue of Batman."

"Then let me buy it for you as a thank you for the coffee and pie." I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Fine." He huffed. With unspoken words we decided to eat and drink the rest of my pie and our coffees in silence. I caught Gerard stealing the bigger crumbles of my apple pie. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"I can't help it!" He exclaims with big eyes and his hands thrown up in the air. I smiled down to my pie, poking it with my fork. His finger came back in vision and scooped some whipped cream off the pie. Before I realized what had happened, it was smeared out on my nose, from the bridge to the point.

"What was that for?" I asked him, trying to hide the smile on my face, though I was sure it was clearly audible in my voice.

"For being cute." He stated, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. Our knees bumped and I could feel he now sat with his legs wide open. I grabbed a napkin from under the plate of pie and cleaned my nose. What a waste of whipped cream...

"So being cute is a reason to smear whipped cream on my nose?" He smiled proudly and nodded. "That doesn't seem really legit. I won't forgive you until I have a legit reason, you dick." He let out some weird laugh that sounded more like "aha!" than anything else.

"Can you drink that on the way to the comic store?" He asked me, nodding to the take away cup which was still half full. I shrugged.

"Yeah, sure. Why not." And we stood up from the booth, making our way towards the comic store.

"So what's your roommate like?" I asked him once we flopped down on my bed again. The walk to the comic store was mainly silent, so was being there, and so was walking back home. The only thing said was Gerard muttering something about his roommate.

"Oh, erm." He was slightly blushing. He was blushing. Would he have a crush on his roommate? Oh god, that'd be so awkward when the roommate would find out. What if it turned out the roommate felt the same way? Shit, then I wouldn't have a chance with Gerard. Not that I have one now, but I could always keep working on it and dreaming about it. "His name is Bert McCracken and he's in this really cool garage band called The Used. They do a lot of covers of other cool bands and put them on YouTube."

"Oh god!" I felt my eyes grow wide. "I saw them on YouTube! They're awesome! They're like my favorite cover band! Wow, shit, so the singer of The Used is your roommate?" I asked in awe. Shit man, I could meet the singer of my favorite cover band who might grow out to a real band if I played this good!

My constant thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of a phone. Though it wasn't mine, I would've felt that. Gerard reached for his phone, deep in his pocket and read the text message. From the position were I was laying, I could read along to his messages, which I shamelessly did.

Bert: when r u coming home fatass

How nice.Must be great to be friends with that guy. I barely knew him and the image I had of him in my head quickly went from "cool band dude" to "total jackass who I would beat up if he had the guts to lay one finger on my new friend who I like more than I should".

"Well." Gerard said after shoving the damaged phone back in his pocket. "Bert want me back home, so I'd better get going. Is it okay if I leave my pajamas here or- no I'll put them back down in the basement." He grabbed his pajama shirt and bottoms and made his way down the stairs. I followed him like a lost puppy -which I actually felt like.

"You shouldn't go back. Bert sounds really mean." I huffed quietly, though I was positive he heard me.

"He is, sometimes. He's probably drunk now." He just shrugged it off.

"Don't go back. Stay here until Sunday, please!" I sounded desperate. Hopeless. I felt like a whiny six year old girl who wasn't allowed a new Barbie doll.

"What was that?" Gerard turned around with a smug smile on his face.

"Nothing." I sighed. I sounded disappointed. I was, really. I didn't want him to go. No, not yet. "Have fun with Bert, then. When will I see you again?"

"Hey, Frank, don't look so upset. I'll be back in two weeks. I promise." I let out a whiny noise of disapproval and nodded to my feet.

"Okay. See you then." I turned around to go back upstairs, though a hand grabbed my wrist and I was easily pressed up against a chest. I recognized the coffee and mint scent immediately and recognized it as the welcoming scent of Gerard. The scent I had fallen asleep to last night.

"Bye, Frank." He stroked my hair and then let go. He yelled a "goodbye dickface" at Mikey and kissed his parents goodbye. The front door slammed shut and he was gone again.

Without his backpack and sketchbook nor his denim jacket.


	4. Chapter Four - Gerard's POV

Frank: I miss u

I didn't even know the jackass for over two days and I already felt myself growing to like him more than just in a friendly way. I also found myself not giving a shit about it.

Gerard: I hvnt been gne fr an hour idiot

The reply was almost immediate.

Frank: I still miss u x

He had ended his message with an "x". Does that mean anything? Would he feel the same way already? No. Of course not, Gerard. Don't get your hopes up like you did last time. Remember last time. Didn't end too well, did it?

Gerard: thats cute frnk x

I stared out the small window next to the seat in the train. Everything was going past me in a vague blur. I saw shapes of houses, trees, people, though nothing was able to capture my attention as Frank had the past hours. Even we he slept, he still entertained me.

I don't know what it was that interested me in him. Maybe it was the huge amount of anger, boiled up in such a small, fragile-looking body. Maybe it were the big innocent eyes, the way he'd blush when I complimented him or how peaceful he looked when he slept. When he slept, he looked happy. Not constantly frowning or fighting the anger in him when it was triggered.

Frank was the first one not to judge me for my self harm. He simply looked at me with big doe eyes and asked me to try to stop, just for him and him alone. He had told me he wanted to help me, to make my life a life again to myself. To be happy with who I am. But, how could someone who obviously was unhappy with himself help me to become happy with myself.

Lost in thoughts I had absentmindedly felt my phone buzz three times. I unlocked the screen and saw:

3 new messages, 3 contacts

Wow, I am the popular shiz.

I read the contacts. Frank, of course. Mikey. Bert. I cringed a little at the last one. I knew he was going to do something I most likely would not like once I was back home. Well, home... Back in the beaten down dorm with broken doors and the permanent smell of alcohol. Occasionally, even weed. Pill bottles littered the apartment, though they were not mine. I had quit my pills three months ago. Just like my alcohol. Bert, on the other hand, still was strongly addicted to what he called "his little saviors".

My thumb trembled at the thought of Bert hurting me again as I opened his message first. Last best. In this case, Frank was the best person who I had gotten a text of, so his would be opened and answered last.

Bert: r u on ur way yet, fag? U better b

I didn't understand what was with the constant insults and threats. I had done nothing wrong to the guy, but since the moment I had decided to go cold turkey from drinking and (ab)using pills, he had turned extremely violent towards me. Sometimes even more than just violent... The violence I could live with, though I never was one to see the point in violence. It was just the other things he would be capable of doing to me that terrified me senseless.

Gerard: I am. Will b on the station in 15

Next to go was Mikey.

Mikey: wht did u do w frnk? Hes sad nd angry nd I dunno wht to do w him righ now.

I sighed. Was he really that upset that I left him? The only reason I left was because the fear of what Bert would do to me once I was home.

Gerard: idk try gve him sme skittles. He seems 2 like them xtremely mch.

Last, was Frank's.

Frank: please don't tell me u left because ur scared tht Bert guy will hurt u? Please don't tell me he hurts u

I sighed at his concern, though I smiled a little as well. There was someone to notice, someone to care. My phone buzzed again in my hand and it showed a notification of a new text of Mikey.

Mikey: hes crying y is he crying

This message shocked me a little. He was crying. This was probably my fault. I had to reply. I decided to reply to Frank first.

Gerard: don't worry he doesn't hurt me, I promise. Don't cry please

And next was Mikey.

Gerard: I don't know what's w him. I left my back at ur place, u could grab my creditcard and get the poor guy smethng to drink @starbucks nd maybe a comic if he wants??? Idk.

I had always been one to strongly dislike the use of shorter words and even shorter messages in text messages, but hey, it worked and it was quicker done. Though, much to my dislike people actually started to write like this in real life as well. I once caught someone writing like this on one of those notes that's being passed to everyone in class while they hiss "pass this to-" I don't know "-Emily"? You'd have to pass it to a person in the direction of where the Emily girl was sitting without getting caught by the teacher though I usually sat in the far back and never had to pass any notes.

Tss. Passing notes. I thought to myself. I thought this was college, not freaking high school. I would've guessed people were more mature than that.

The texting continued until I reached the train station of New York. It was Mikey who kept texting me and updating me on how Frank was doing. Why was he so upset?

Mikey: frnk says he doesn't want Starbucks or a comic. He wants u 2 b safe.

Gerard: tell the lil fcker I had a great day

Mikey: he whimpered a small "thnk u me 2"

Gerard: I don't get why the guys so upset

Mikey: he says he's worried bc u looked scared when u read berts text which I understand from what uve once told me bout him

I once told Mikey Bert had attempted to rape me, though that I found a way to escape and another dorm to sleep in until Bert was sober enough to have forgotten what he did. He also knew about the occasional beat-up I received.

Gerard: srry I didnt mean 2 worry him or u

Mikey: sokay bro b safe

Gerard: I will Mikey. U nd frnk don't worry k?

Mikey: ok bro

I heard the familiar ding and the annoying grumpy voice told the passengers that the train has come to a stop at "New York central". I excited the train and immediately noticed Bert waiting for me. I shot him my best smile and walked over to him, engulfing him in a friendly hug. He seemed sober. Sober Bert was okay.

He walked us to his car and opened the passenger seat for me. I told him "thank you" and he just smiled at me with a smug smile that I didn't particularly trusted. I just decided not to show my distrust and kept the smile on my face. Bert himself took place in the drivers seat and headed off to a destination that didn't exactly look familiar to me.

After a half an hour drive, Bert parked his car and shut down the engine. I had been staring out the window out of boredom for the entire ride, not daring to grab my phone to read the five texts I had received. Bert never trusted me with my phone. Especially not if he took me somewhere when the destination was unknown to me.

I looked out the window and studied my surroundings. Bert pulled over in a parking lot next to an abandoned park that slowly blended into a forest. Even the sight of the place gave me the creeps. Without any spoken words, Bert and I both excited the car and made out way towards the park/forest. I did not trust this. Not one cel in my body did. Not one inch of my skin did. Especially not the skin around my private areas, if you know what I mean.

"Sit there and stay there until I tell you differently." Bert told me in a threatening tone, pointing at a rotten wooden bench. Lovely. I obeyed and sat myself down on the gross moss. Bert went to walk somewhere and I decided this was a good moment to delete my conversational text history with Mikey and Frank. Bert occasionally liked to check my texts to see if I wasn't "cheating" on him. Wouldn't want your playtoy to date an other guy, do you? Your little secret might as well spill out of your playtoy's mouth.

My phone was safely shoved back in my pocket when Bert came back over to me. Luckily, he didn't notice me grabbing my phone, doing something on it or putting it back. I smiled at him innocently.

"Don't smile like an innocent five year old. You know what's going to happen and you're going to enjoy it wether you like it or not." Bert snarled. Oh, fun, there was the threatening tone in his voice again. My smile immediately dropped and he beckoned me to stand up. I did as he told me to and I followed him, walking into the woods. The forest looked dark. Too dark in broad daylight. There's also this mood in this forest that made me shiver. The smell of death and other crimes committed here hung fresh in the spring air.

IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE A RAPE THEME WELL, I SUGGEST YOU STOP READING NOW UNTIL I SAY IT'S OVER.

Before I knew what was happening, Bert had pulled a roll of duct-tape out of nowhere and tackled me onto the ground. He placed a strip of tape on my mouth and used another piece of tape to tape my hands together, above my head.

Oh shit I thought. He then continued to pull down his pants which -for some reason- was carrying a throbbing erection. Apparently a tied up boy who is close to tears is arousing. Whilst I was fighting tears with all the strength I could bear, my pants and underwear were suddenly down as well. My shoes were undone and off and my jeans hit the ground next to my head, whilst my underwear was dropped on my head. I tried to shake it off, because gross, but failed miserably.

Bert flipped me over so I was laying on my -luckily still clad- stomach. My dick met the raw and stingy surface of the forest's floor and I pushed my hips up a little go get them un-touching. Yet, I hadn't planned on Bert grabbing my hips as soon as I lifted them and holding them in a steady grip. I let my head drop between my arms.

I could feel one of his hands roaming all over my body, under my shirt even. His hands were rough, nasty and unwanted on my body. I already felt disgusting. I felt the head of his cock hit my entrance and prepared myself for the worst.

Sure, I've had sex before, but they never went in dry. They always used a condom or lube or both. Frank was right. I thought to myself. I am a bottom. When he pushed in dry, my lips parted and anything manageable from a scream with my duct-tape on my mouth, left my mouth. I could feel the skin of my lips tearing against the sticky surface of the duct-tape and I could feel the bleeding where his dick was. His thrusts were rough, carelessly. His moans, loud.

How could he possibly enjoy this. Both of his hands were now roaming over my body, my shirt was pushing up as far as possible. Thick tears of anger, sadness and disgust made their way down my face, dripping on the surface of the forest floor. He moaned one last, loud time, this hand clawing at my back. He then pulled out of me and I sighed in relief. I didn't have the guts to move yet, so I waited until he had pulled up his pants. His shoes then were in my vision, one of them kicking me over.

The duct-tape was ripped off my mouth and wrists painfully quick.

"Get dressed and come back to the car, whore. The backseat is all for you." His angry voice growled in my ear. I pulled my underwear, pants and shoes on as quick as I could manage and walked towards the car, trying my best to ignore the huge literal pain in my ass, while tears still made their way down my face.

IT'S OVER.

I sat down in the backseat of his car, as he had ordered me to.

"Fucking stop crying, fucking pansy." I tried my best to obey him.

The car ride was silent, apart from the quiet sobs. He pulled up in the parking lot of our apartment building and I sprinted out of his car, towards our shared dorm. I locked my bedroom door and let my sobs go freely.

After an hour I couldn't produce any more tears and I sat up, with an aching head. I fished my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had 10 new text messages. All from Frank.

Frank: Gerard r u ok?

Frank: why rnt u answering ur phone?

Frank: y rnt u replying

Frank: if u don't answer the phone soon I will come over nd check on u

Frank: come on Gerard answer ur phone

Frank: did I do smething wrong?

Frank: ANSWER ME.

Frank: please, I'm begging u please answer

Frank: answer within 15 minutes or else ill b on a train 2 New York.

Frank: 18 missed calls.

The last text he send was from ten minutes ago, the last time he tried to call me was five minutes ago.

Gerard: don't worry I'm ok

I quickly send him, making sure he would not find the mess I am right now.

I could still feel his hands roaming freely over my body, the raw surface of his fingertips tracing my spine. His bitten down fingernails digging into my hips. New tears made their way down my face and I decided to shower.

Once in the shower, I rubbed my skin until it was red and raw, though I could still feel his fingers over my skin. I could still hear his breathing in my ear and I could still feel the careless thrusts.


	5. Chapter Five - Frank's POV

Gerard: don't worry I'm ok

I frowned down at the small screen that was my phone's. I did not trust this. I let my eyes wander to the digital clock that was built in in the message board. It read 5:21PM. In exactly five minutes my train would arrive. I don't care what Gerard said. He didn't answer his phone for over an hour and all I get is "I'm ok". This could definitely not wait two weeks for further explanation. I wanted to know the truth.

My phone was quickly shoved back into my pocket and I reached for the papers in the back pocket of my jeans. One was a train ticket and one were the directions from the New York train station to Gerard's dorm. I checked the information on the slightly yellow paper that is my train ticket.

5:26PM. May 24th 2014.  
Hoboken - New York,  
New York - Hoboken.

Okay, that was correct. The ink of the description was still in tact and perfectly readable.

"You're still gonna go, aren't you?" Mikey asked me. He had decided to come with me to the train station until I either got a reply from Gerard with a clear explanation or until I was going on the train. I looked up to him and nodded, biting my lip. "Just be careful, Frank. Bert's a tough one."

"I will." I smiled. "Don't worry."

"Text me as soon as you get on the train back, okay? I'll be waiting for you here when your train arrives, okay?" Mikey laid his hand to rest on my shoulder and it somehow felt calming.

"Okay, Mikey, I will." And with that, my train arrived with the most noise a train could possibly produce. I winced at the sound and felt Mikey pat my shoulder once everyone was out of the train.

"Good luck." He yelled after me while I was walking towards the train. I gave him a thumbs up and entered the train. I went to sit by a window, but when I looked outside, Mikey was already long gone.

\---

I looked at the address written messily on the paper. Yeah, this should be it. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, seen as there was no doorbell. The door was opened always immediately and in the opening stood a man with long, dirty black hair and some dirt on his face. Gross.

"What do you want? You here to sell me girls scout cookies?" He snorted. I could tell by his voice that he was drunk.

"I-Is G-Gerard home?" I asked him, slightly biting my lower lip. He reached out for my face. I closed my eyes as I felt him tug on my lip ring, turning it and making it snap loudly. The metal scraped my lip and the skin under it even harder and I could feel it bleed. I yelped in pain and he just grinned stupidly, still twisting my lip ring.

"Yeah, he is. Why don't you come on in?" He said after he'd finally released my lip ring. He stood aside and allowed me to walk past him. "I'm surprised the little faggot even has friends." He sounded amused with himself. Why were these guys even roommates. He roughly pushed me into the living room and there I saw Gerard.

He was laying next to the wall, his face facing us and limbs in angles like he'd just slumped down. There was blood streaming in his next and there was a small puddle above his head, shattered glass surrounding him. He probably even was laying on top of the sharp shards as well.

"Don't worry, the bleeding has stopped." Bert simply shrugged. Did he do this? I blinked in disbelief and looked up to meet Bert's gaze. 

"Why did you do that?" I said softly.

"I can't tell you, but let's keep it on: he deserved it." First of all, I was surprised he had heard what I said, as it was barely a whisper. Secondly, what could Gerard have possibly done to deserve this? Maybe looks indeed did lie. Maybe he indeed did something that he deserved this.

Oh my God, what if he's a schizophrenic and he tried to attack Bert? What if he's abusing my naïve mind? Oh my God, I'm so stupid for trusting him. 

"Oh my God." I groaned out loud. Bert shot me a confused look, though the smug expression was still clear. Why did he look so smug anyway? What if he is the schizophrenic that attacked Gerard and the voices in his head blame it all on Gerard? That would explain why Gerard seemed so scared of him and why Mikey told me to be careful. That makes sort of sense, doesn't it?

"What?" Bert said harshly, stepping closer to me. What did I do? I just groaned, didn't I?

"What?" I looked up at him confused and returned his question. Next thing I knew, I was shoved against the wall and a rough fist met my eye. That'd be a nice bruise. "Hit me again and see if I care." I hissed. Smooth move Frank, you're just getting yourself more punches now. His fist met my stomach and I coughed loudly. He pulled me by my hair and shoved me onto the ground.

I should've realized that this isn't fucking high school anymore and that this is not a jock who is beating me up for being a "fag". No. This is the rough life, where someone beat me up, just because he's drunk and because I'm at the wrong place in the wrong moment. He had looked like was about to leave when I knocked on the door. If I was five minuter later, maybe he would've been gone by then...

I laid on my side on the gross, filthy carpet. God, this thing needs a vacuum cleaning. Wrong timing, Frank. I was kicked in the ribs, hard, and curled up in a self-defensive ball, hugging my knees tight to my chest, my head on my knees and my fingers tangled together over my shins in a pathetic attempt to keep them together. So far, I've had two hard punches and a hard kick. He placed his boot on my tangled fingers and kicked hard on it, with what appeared to be a steel shoe toe. I cried out in pain and pressed my hand against my chest. He kicked my legs against the wall and aimed a kick at my jaw. 

As my vision began to blur, I saw him walking away, but sadly enough also coming back with something clunched in his hand. He lifted me up the wall on the collar of my hoodie and slammed the glass into my head. He then threw me against the wall, and everything went black. 

The last thing I knew was that my limb body hit another limb body. 

\---

"No, I think he should wake up any moment from now." A voice in the far distance said. "Are you sure you don't want any ice on that? It looks really sore." I could now hear it was a female, and obviously we weren't the only ones in the room. 

"No, I'm sure. Thanks for helping, Lindsey." A voice I vaguely recognized spoke. "Maybe you should get another one for Frank's ribs? I mean they have severe nasty bruises on them." This was followed by a sigh and some shuffling and the scraping of a chair against a tile floor. Footsteps faded away into even further distance, but came back as quick as they went away. 

"Don't sweat it, Gerard." The woman -Lindsey- spoke again. Yes! That was who the second voice belonged to!

I hissed as something cold came in touch with my apparently bare chest. 

"Frank?" Both of them said in unsion. One was filled with something that seemed like shock -Lindsey- and the other was more happy to hear that I was coming to my senses -Gerard. I groaned and tried my best to arch my back a little because it was aching like crazy. A strong pressure was on my forehead and a hand immediately pushed me back down.

"Don't move just yet, Frank. You might break something now. He probably has too much of a headache to open his eyes now." Lindsey said, the last part probably aimed at Gerard.

"Frank, please, take a small nap." Gerard spoke softly in my ear. I nodded ever so slightly and let myself drift of in unconsciousness again.

\---

When I first open my eyes, I do not recognize my surroundings. Not even the slighest bit. The walls are a blood red and the carpet is black, matching the sheets on the white-framed bed. On my right side was a sleeping body, one of their arms flung over my stomach. To the left side of my head I saw a red light. I glanced over and saw it was a digital alarm clock, that was telling me that it was in fact 4AM. 

It was too dark to see the face of the person next to me. The room was dark and he (I assumed) had hair covering his face. How did I end up here again? Was this a one-night-stand or was this my boyfriend or had I gotten in a fight again? I couldn't remember. I moved my hand to the arm on my stomach and felt the fabric of an old hoodie. 

"Gerard." I hoarsely whispered, shaking his arm. He moaned something and turned to lay on his other side. "Gerard, why does my head hurt."

"I dunno Mikey go back to sleep." He mumbled, swatting my hand away from his arm with his other arm. His voice was thick with sleep and he obviously was barely awake. I propped myself up on one elbow to slap his face, but with a loud shriek, I let myself fall back down on the bed again. This immediately caused him to shot up and he looked around himself with a confused expression. "Oh my God, Frank!" He exclaimed rather loudly. "You shouldn't have moved! You idiot, you have wounds on your head, of course that's gonna hurt!" He said, whilst standing up and ruffling in a drawer of the bedside table of his side.

"Where even are we?" My voice still was terrible. 

"We're in Lindsey's spare bedroom. She lives in the same building as I do and is a really good friend of mine." He explained. I heard some crackling of plastic and next he walked to the bathroom and filled a glass that was already stood there with water. 

He sat next to me and placed the pink pill in my hand as he set the glass of water on the bedside table on my side. He grabbed his pillow and lifted my head ever so slightly, placing his pillow on top of mine to get me sit upright a little more. I understood his intentions and popped the pill in my mouth, wrapping my hand around his as he held the glass in front of me to take a sip. 

Long after I took the sip and Gerard and I had laid back down onto the bed again -my head resting on one pillow-, I still refused to let go of his hand. And we fell asleep like that again, whisper talking, on our backs, eyes never breaking contact and finger intertwined. 

\---

"Frank?" The feminine voice that belonged to who I assumed was Lindsey spoke as my sore shoulder was gently shaken. She was obviously making sure not to hurt any places were it hurt. That's nice of her. "Frank, wake up, I'm going to ride you home in an hour, that okay?" I opened my eyes to see a girl in the semi-dark of the morning sun-lighted bedroom. 

She had her silky black hair in pigtails and a little eyeliner rimmed her eyes, her lips painted a glossy red. She was wearing a faded Iron Maiden shirt and tight, black jeans. She even had knee high socks pulled up over her jeans, they were black with red lines just under the knee. It matched her Iron Maiden shirt and lipstick, so that really was cool. I sort of really could see why she and Gerard were friends.

"Where's Gerard?" I asked her after she helped me sit up and get out of bed. She was standing in the doorpost, her back turned towards me. She let out a sighs and leaned against the doorpost with her hand. 

"Bert came to pick him up. Gerard called himself sick in today and Bert doesn't know, so he will be back here when his first course starts today. Don't worry, Bert was sober and he will come with us to bring you home." She looked at me over her shoulder end shot me a warm smile. Yes, I could most definitely see why she and Gerard were friends. "Let's get you some cereal now, that okay or are you not hungry?" She now had turned around and was studying me. 

"Cereal would be nice, thank you." I gave her my best attempt on a smile. She let me to the kitchen and gave me a bowl of cereal.

Half way through the bowl, there was a knock on the door. Lindsey went to open the door and Gerard immediately stormed in, pulling a kitchen chair next to mine. He sat in a way that I could always be sat between his legs and started to examine my head. 

"Those are some mean cuts, but at least they're closed now. Don't scratch your head, please, Frank. I'll make sure mom will keep an eye out for that." He started babbling. He said more, though I was not really paying attention. I shoved spoons full of cereal in my mouth as he spoke and nodded on moments I felt I had to nod.

He suddenly leaned his arm on the table and leaned his head on his hand. "You're not listening to me, are you?" His face wore a cute, toothy grin and his hair was a total mess. I shook my head.

"What do you expect, I'm hungry." I said, sounding a little bored. I shoved a new spoon of cereal in my mouth and then tapped Gerard on his nose with the spoon. He giggled and wrapped an arm around my waist, laying his head on my shoulder.

"I was so worried, Frank." He sighed sadly. "You could've ended up so much worse. Please, don't do that again." 

"I can't promise you that, Gerard." I leaned my head on top of his and shoved the now empty bowl to the middle of the table. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and tangled my fingers in his unruly hair. He hisses as my finger made contact with the skin of his head and I immediately pulled my hand away. "Sorry." 

Lindsey then stood in front of me, her hands around the empty bowl. "Do you want some more?" She asked me with a kind smile. I bit my lower lip and nodded.

"If that's not too much trouble, please." 

"Of course it isn't, Frank. I wouldn't be offering you it if was." She winked and turned around to fix me another bowl. Gerard slightly shifted his head on my shoulder and hummed softly. I munched away my second bowl way quicker than the first one and looked up from my bowl to see Lindsey smiling at me on the opposide of the table. 

"What?"

"Oh, I was just thinking." She said slowly. "That Gerard and you would make an adorable couple." I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks and I looked back down again. 

"Thank you." I whispered, though I hoped it wasn't really audible. 

"Come on." Gerard spoke up. "Let's get you home."


	6. Gerard's POV

Frank's room was either messier than it had been before I left back to New York or my memory was failing on me already.

After we had arrived back home, Frank claimed to be extremely exhausted for no reason at all. I could understand that. He had head wounds, just like I had and I left a little sleepy myself as well. Probably the sleepy feeling isn't a good thing, but it's better than feeling nothing at all.

Frank was sleeping beside me on his back, an ice pack -which was already melted down- had been sliding off his pale face for two hours now, with me placing it back every now and then. 

I'd been watching the poor guy sleep for two hours already, yawing every other minuter, though not allowing myself to sleep in case he needed something or woke up in pain. I promised myself I could sleep again at 9PM, in my dorm.

After happenings like these Bert always retreated from the dorm for three to five days, leaving the task of cleaning to me when I came back or woke up from unconsciousness. I was always lucky to have a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on and both went under the name of Lindsey Ballato. 

The girl had helped me ever since she first heard the sound of shattering glass and saw Bert storming out when she walked past our dorm one day. Bert always had the habit to leave the door wide open after encounters. That's what Lindsey and I had decided to call them. Unfortunate encounters. 

The name was because it only happened when when I made the mistake of wanting to grab a drink or take a piss the second rage and alcohol had just filled his blood and brains. All he could think of was hitting and sex, so that's what he did. 

One day I left my room and got a small beat up. I managed to escape to Lindsey's and when she asked me what's wrong I said I had "an unfortunate encounter with Bert". She immediately understood what happened and without any spoken words that was now the name of the beating between us. 

I looked down at Frank again and saw his eyes clenched in either a nightmare, pain or something else. I hoped it was the last option though I wouldn't know what "something else" would be. 

Would Frank have someone like Lindsey? Would he have someone to go to when he's upset, apart from Mikey of course. From what I'd understand he got in disagreements with Mikey ever so often. Would he have anyone to talk to when this was the case? Anywhere to run to? 

Mikey was a great kid, I knew that out of experience. I loved Mikey. Not because he's my brother and you're supposed to love your family, but because he was there for me when I needed him and he was always willing to cheer me up when I got my head dunked in the school's toilet again. 

I could hear Mikey playing his bass. I was actually relieved to hear the kid was still playing. I hadn't been here in a while and I was afraid something happened that took Mikey's will to play away. 

Small droplets of sweat formed on Frank's forehead and slowly made their way down his face, onto the pillow beneath his head. I placed my hand on the ice pack to move it back on his forehead and felt it was fully melted and even slightly warm.

The ice pack removed, I placed my hand on his forehead once again to feel it was burning up. Maybe I just had cold hands? I leaned over and softly placed my lips on his forehead to feel he indeed was burning up like boiling water. I mean, your lips are never cold due to blood flow or anything, that's what my mom taught me when I was a kid and Mikey was sick again.

I gently climbed over Frank, melted ice pack in a firm grip, and quietly exit the room. 

"Mom?" I said when I entered the kitchen. My voice was barely a whisper and I was shocked she heard me. Her head shot up from where she was reading the newspaper on the kitchen table and her expression changed from a frown to a soft smile. 

"Yes, honey? Everything alright?" She said in a soft voice, the fact that she cared about what was wrong was audible and that somehow made me relax a little. I guess that just was because my mom was no longer mad at me as she was when we just came home. Al though she did yell a genuine "thank you" to Lindsey, who simply waved and drove off. 

"Frank is burning up." I said, a little louder this time. Her smile shot back in a worried frown.

"Oh, not again. The poor kid has the immune system of a fucking fly." She said, standing up and digging in the cupboard under the sink. She came back up with the bucket Mikey and I knew as "the throw up bucket" and she filled it with a small layer of water. "To make it easier to clean the puke", as she always told Mikey and me. 

She then walked upstairs, without saying a word and woke Frank up. The bucket was under his mouth, as if she knew what was about to happen. He shifted a little but then immediately grabbed for the bucket and violently started throwing up. Hell, he even fell off his bed.

I guessed this happened often, seen as he knew where the bucket was and mom knew where to keep it. Frank was now clenching the bucket to his chest and his legs were wrapped around it. He wasn't throwing up anymore, but his head still hung in the bucket. Just in case, I guessed. Mom was soothing him and rubbing his back. 

I decided to do something else than staring awkwardly. I pushed my hand against the door frame to get myself in a standing position again and made my way to Mikey's room. 

His door was open, though not far, meaning anyone was welcome to walk in. I pushed the door open and saw Mikey sitting, hunched over his bass. His back was facing the door, so he couldn't see me coming in. 

He was playing the easily recognizable tune of "I Miss You" by no one less than Blink-182. 

"Hello there, the angel from my nightmares." I whispered after a while.

"No." Mikey then said and turned around, "I'm at "will you come home and stop this pain tonight." He said with a proud grin on his face.

"Yeah, I already thought I heard a cat cry." I said in a playful tone, a thoughtful expression on my face. This earned me a shove once I was within arm reach. 

"Mind your words, Arthur." He tried -and failed- to act like a stern parent again, just like he sometimes used to when I was still in high school.

"Come sit next to me, James." I copied his use of my second name and patted next to me on his bed after sitting down myself. To my surprise, he put his bass -which was a beautiful black jazz bass with a white slap board from Fender- away and sat beside me.

As soon as his ass hit the bed, I wrapped my arms over his shoulders, both my hands resting on his left shoulder. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and noticed he still smelled the same. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, putting an arm around me. This was one of those moments I had to remind myself I am the older one and not he. He just seemed so much more mature than his fat ass, alcoholic brother. 

"I'm sorry." I mumbled quietly, voice muted a little by the fabric of his Anthrax shirt. I left him laying his head on top of mine and his other arm went around me as well, his hands folded on my back.

"What for? You did nothing wrong." 

"I am sorry for not listening, Mikey. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you told me to report Bert. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you told me I should search another room mate. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before when you told be to quit drugs. I'm sorry." By the end I was sobbing and my words were barely audible due to the emotions catching my throat. 

"You should discuss moving in with Lindsey, you know." 

"You know Bert won't let me." I choked out. I felt his head moving away from mine and his hands were then firmly placed on my shoulders.

"Gerard, look at me." I did as he said and looked him in the eyes. My sight was blurred by tears, but I could see the serious look in his eyes. My hands dropped to my lap as he asked me the question: "What did he do to you?" 

My mouth fell open in shock. I couldn't tell this to my little brother. I don't know how he'd react and what he'd say. The already repressed memories of the other day came flowing back in my head as fresh as they are as I stuttered out, "He r- r- raped me, Mikey."

Oh my god. What did I do. I told my little brother I was raped. What if mom heard it? No, can't be. I heard her walking downstairs again. That must mean Frank is okay again. Wait. Fuck. What if Frank-

"He did what?" I heard a timid voice from behind me say. I looked down at my hands and Mikey stood up, causing me to tumble forwards and land face-first on his bed. He could've masturbated and got cum all over these sheets, but I didn't care. I pulled my legs up to my chest, not bothering to hold hem in place with my hands and started sobbing in his sheets.

The bed shifted a little and my head was placed on someone's lap. Hand were running through my hair rather soothingly and I hummed a little through my sobs -which were slowly were fading away.

"It's okay. We'll find a way to get you away from there. I promise." Frank's soft voice spoke above me. 

"I promise, too." Mikey spoke up from where he was standing beside the bed.

I sat up once my crying had died down and Mikey sat neck to me again.

"How long are you sober now, Gerard?" He asked me. Shit. I couldn't remember. It was something with a three. Three weeks? Three months? Three months sounds reasonable.

"Somewhere around the three months I think." I was then engulffed in a hug from both sides. I giggled and kissed both their heads, Mikey's first seen as he was easier to reach, because he was taller than Frank.

"Frank, you're so small." I giggled then, not realizing what I'd said. 

"For starters, I am fun sized, not small. Second, you're not exactly the tallest as well, are you now? Even your little brother is taller than you." He ironically snaps his fingers at the end and makes a bitchy face. 

"Wow, this chick's got an attitude." I whispered to Mikey, whilst nudging his side. 

"Better watch out bro, what if she skins you with her nails?" He whispers back. We both got a slap from Frank, but then he errupts in laughter himself as well.

Our laughing fit soon died down due to a buzz of my phone. I unlocked the screen to see a message from Lindsey.

And God, it could be the message of heaven.

Lindsey: cops went by, searching fr Bert. They wanna arrest him for charges of rape. U can stay @ my place when u get back.


	7. Frank's POV

I was rude -and curious- enough to read along to Gerard's text message and in all honesty, what I felt was beyond shock. Only Mikey and I now knew about what Bert had done, as far as I was concerned. 

I opened my mouth to ask Gerard who else knew about it, but before I could speak up he was already yelling "mom" on the top of his lungs. 

His eyes only left the screen of his phone when she came in, telephone held in her hand.

"Yes, sweetie?" Donna asked, a smile presented on her face.

"Mom, did you overhear Mikey and I's conversation?" Gerard slightly tilted his head like a lost puppy while he asked his mom this question. Her face seemed to light up a little more, if that was even possible.

"I did. And before you can ask, yes I also called the police on him." Gerard's mouth fell open at the words Donna spoke and he shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

"Thank you." He whispered, eyes still big in shock. "So much." After this, he launched himself from the bed, at his mom and embraced her in what looked to be a tight hug. I couldn't blame him, though. 

I would've been just as happy as he was if someone had done something awful to me that would follow me for the rest of my life, though not having the guts to call the police upon him and have someone else doing it.

My sick feeling was long forgotten by now, as I asked: "Mikey, Gerard, how about we go to Starbucks to celebrate this. You could come too, Donna." I shot the woman that was willing to take care of me like I was her own a polite smile, which she happily returned over Gerard's -slightly shaking- shoulders. 

"Frank, dear, are you sure you feel alright enough to go outside already?" She asked me, to what I nodded eagerly. 

\---

Donna had decided not to come with us to Starbucks, no matter how appealing the offer of me paying everything sounded to her. She said we could use some time alone, though I did not know why.

"So, Gerard." I said, swirling the coffee in my half empty mug. "SVA. School of Visual Arts."

Gerard looked down at the coffee mug he was holding in both his hands and nodded, with a small "yeah."

"Is that one of those schools where they have different directions in studies?" At this question, Gerard's head shot up, a glimmer of what seemed to be happiness in his eyes.

"It is, yes!" He spoke excitedly. "You can even pick two there, if your interests are spread over different categories." 

"So, what are your one or two directions?" I unintentionally wiggled my eyebrows at him and a smile spread on his face. To say he was looking cute right now would be an understatement.

"I chose only one, actually."

"And that is?" 

"Teaching. I've always wanted to be an art teacher. Learn kids who feel terrible about their drawing some tips and tricks to better their drawing skills." He shyly smiled down at his mug again.

"Teaching means internship. When and where are you going to be an intern?"

"Hoboken Catholic boy school or something. It's a high school, I'm sure you've heard of it. The full next school year." I groaned loudly at the mention of the school.

"I know that school better than any other." I slumped back into my seat, the realization we only have one art teacher so Gerard would become his intern not hitting me just yet.

"Well, then I at least have a student to look forward to. I now also don't have to spend the rest of this school year and the whole summer with Bert, seen as I can move in with Lindsey until I get the key to my new apartment, two weeks before the beginning of the new school year."

"Where are you moving to?" Mikey asked, looking up from his phone. He obviously had been texting Pete or Alicia, seen by the smug smile on his face.

Mikey was sat beside me and opposite of his brother. He placed his phone flat on the table to give the conversation his full attention and I could see Pete on top of the screen before he locked it. Those two were the most inseparable friends I've ever witnessed and I somehow felt myself wishing to get a friendship with Gerard like that one day.

"Some apartment in the flat across of the damn school." Gerard simply shrugged. 

"Teacher, hm?" I butted in, tea spoon between my teeth. "Teachers in my school have to wear a suit, or a dress shirt, waistcoat and tie." I could already see Gerard in one of those outfits and I had to stop myself from thinking about it any longer before I got too turned on.

"Oh, damn." Gerard grumbled. "I should invest in some decent clothing then."

\---

Days had passed and Gerard had left to back to Lindsey in New York an hour after he revealed to become an intern at my school. To say I was looking forward to next school year's art classes would be an understatement. I always looked forward to the art classes, but now I was too pumped to be hold back. 

Gerard had been very busy for three days when he got back, packing his stuff at his apartment and bringing it to Lindsey's. He told me he was in constant fear during this, because Bert hadn't been arrested yet and he could come home any second. 

I hand't seen Gerard in over one and a half week, though we had been skyping and texting an awful lot and I think I went over my texting limit, but that's a problem for my parents if they still cared to pay the bill. Well, they still cared to pay the catholic school, so my phone bill wouldn't be that much of a problem.

The skyping and texting was almost as good as having him around as far as I knew, seen as I only hung out with him for, like, two days. 

It was currently Wednesday and the realization Lindsey told me Gerard had classes on Saturday hit me hard. Why the fuck was that? I reached for my phone in my pocket, grateful for it being a new month so I could text freely again. 

My glance went from the obvious buldge that was my phone in the pocket of my ridiculously tight jeans to the aging chemistry teacher. She probably wouldn't notice it if I texted in her class, but to eliminate the risk of my phone getting confiscated, I raised my hand and asked the lady -who's name I've never been bothered to remember- if I could use the bathroom.

She let me go and I walked to the dreadful room with a pace as if I needed to pee really bad. 

Once safely locked inside a stall I made myself comfortable on the closed lit of the toilet, the rips in my jeans' knees making me even more comfortable because I didn't have the scratchy fabric rubbing against my skin. 

I've never been happier to be on a school that has a dress code -not uniforms. We have to wear a white dress shirt and a tie, but they couldn't care less about what kind of tie you wore, what shoes you wore and how damaged your jeans were -or in the girls' case, how short the skirt was. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see I had just received two new text messages from Gerard.

Gerard: frankie u @ school?

Gerard: i was thinkin maybe u could spend the weekend here with lynz and me

I knew Gerard meant Lindsey when he said "lynz" and I thought it was rather cute that Lindsey prefered her name to be spelled like that. 

Frank: Id love to spend the friday and saturday with u but dont u have classes on saturday

Gerard replied almost instantly with:

Gerard: i do but i was thinking about saturday noon til sunday noon if thats ok. u could hang w lynz til my class is done

Frank: y do u even have classes on saturday

Gerard: its only 1 class and its bc there are many courses and not that many classrooms + i have mon, tues, wed and thursday off so i work @ the comic store then

Frank: y didnt u ever tell me this ffs

Gerard: sorry man haha, gotta go lynz needs me xx

Frank: ok dude skype tonight? 

Gerard: sure xx

Frank: neat xx

A smile spread on my face as I hopped off the toilet lid and opened it to actually take a piss.

\---

Small locks of black and bleached hair hit the ground as I worked on them with my trimmer and scissors. The roots were showing through the bleach blonde, yet how dark hair and blonde mostly mix nicely, that does not count for my hair. 

Once my sides were their originals lengths again, exactly as short as how I liked them, I started on the black strip in the middle, cutting it carefully and not that much shorter as I did with my sides.

My school -students, principal and the teachers- were never a big fan of how I chose to wear my hair, though they never bothered to say anything about it due to my anger issues.

Donna had taken me the doctor, the Wednesday after the encounter with Bert, and he had given me some pills that were meant to calm me, so the anger didn't boil up that fast anymore. I had to take one with breakfast, lunch and dinner and they worked perfectly.

I hadn't been in a fight with Mikey since May 25th and it currently was June 7th. Gerard, Donna and Mikey himself said they were utterly proud of me and we celebrated this by going out for dinner on Friday, Donna, Mikey and I. Gerard had tried to make it, but he had a project to start with Lindsey. 

When my hair had the lengths I was content with again, I fixed myself the bleach and applied it to all my hair. Now it was time to wait.

\---

The package told me I had to wait half an hour before washing it out again, and I spend this time doing nothing but strumming away on my acoustic guitar. 

Once the bleach was washed out, the middle strip of hair was rather orange-ish, while my sides were the exact same color of blonde as they were before, only without my dark roots showing through. I applied the black dye I had prepared and went back to my room.

I glanced at the clock to see it was now nearing 8PM, which was the time I had promised Gerard to be on Skype. I reached under my bed for my laptop and it's charger, to find them where they always are. 

My laptop took some while to start, but when it was finally fully started I immediately received a video call from Gerard. 

Even before the video was fully loaded, I could hear the familiar sound of Hayley Williams' voice, combined with Lindsey's. Lindsey always played Paramore very loud when working on a project -which she seemed to be doing an awful lot. 

Most Skype conversations Gerard and I had were filled with Lindsey's singing in the background or her bass-playing in the background. 

When the video was finally loaded I could see Gerard was softly singing along to "Still Into You" himself, not noticing I had already answered the call. He was busy working in his sketchbook, which was placed on the table in front of his laptop.

I opened my mouth to speak up, but before I said anything, Lindsey swung the door of his bedroom open. She was loudly singing, while swinging her hips to the music I could hear even clearer now. 

"I should be over all the butterflies

But I'm into you

And baby even on the worst night

I'm into you"

When she reached Gerard, who was obviously ignoring her, she placed the palms of her hands on his face, her hands covered in red and blue paint, leaving two hand prints on his face. 

His reply to this was standing up, and running after her as she run out of his room again. I could hear a bang, shrieking laughter of Lindsey, humorous laughter of Gerard and I could almost hear the pang of jealousy I felt. 

I couldn't help but feel extremely jealous of Gerard and Lindsey's playful friendship. If you wouldn't know about Gerard's sexuality, you'd think they were an item. Hell, I knew Gerard was as gay as I could be and even I was doubting whether they were dating or not. 

Was I really this attracted to Gerard already? This couldn't be true. I must be imagining these feelings. There's is no way I could have feeling for him, we'd only met barely two weeks ago. 

The shrieking and laughing went on for another five minutes and I counted the seconds in the bar on Skype. In these five minutes I had realized I indeed was already extremely attracted and convinced myself to bring this to the topic on Saturday. 

When Gerard reappeared in front of the camera again, my mood was totally ruined and I didn't feel like skyping anymore. 

"Hey Frank, what's wrong?" He asked me. Was it really that obvious I felt like complete shit now?

"Oh, nothing." I brushed it off. "Hey, I got-"

"I need to talk to you about something." He unintentionally cut me off. 

"Can this wait until Saturday? I got to wash my dye out and then I'll go to bed. I'm sorry. Goodnight, Gerard." 

"But it's only-" I cut him off by ending the call and immediately closing off Skype, followed by my laptop itself. 

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them to keep them in place. Why did I even feel this way for Gerard? What made him so different from anyone else? I shouldn't be feeling these things for him, for my own sake.

I felt the tears streaming down my face, not bothered to wipe them off. My phone buzzed next to where it was laying next to me on my bed. I let go of my knees with one of my arms and grabbed for my phone, that was showing me I had a text. 

Lindsey: what happened? gerards rly sad nd he doesnt wna tell me why

Frank: i dnt see y hed be sad but i couldnt talk im sry

Lindsey: dnt be sry, ill try to cheer him up dnt worry

I sighed and set an alarm on my phone for over fifteen minutes. 

I walked over to my bathroom and stripped out of my clothes. I sit myself down in the small, empty bathtub and place my phone next to the side of it, under a towel. I turn on the the water tab and sit back after closing off the drain, making sure to keep my hair dry until my alarm went off.

Should I even go to Gerard's on Saturday?


	8. Gerard's POV

"Okay class, you can use this hour to work on your projects." The teacher told us. There were some mumbles of agreement and everyone went to work.

I couldn't bring myself to work. My palms were sweating, my hands were shaking and my mind was anywhere but where it was supposed to be.

I glanced over at the clock, which was showing me it was 10 to noon. Frank said he'd be coming over at noon and stay the night, but he hasn't talked to me since Lindsey smeared paint on my face.

Did Frank not like Lindsey? Was he done with my shit? Oh no, what if he thought Lindsey was way more important to me than he is?

I did got mad at Lindsey after Frank signed his Skype off. I told her I needed to talk to him about something serious and I also told her how I felt about the little guy.

What if she did it on purpose? What if it was her intention to make Frank had at me? What if she didn't like Frank and wanted me all to herself? That did sound like something Lindsey would do... It also sounded like something Bert would do... I think that is the thought that scared me the most.

Bert and Lindsey were very different from each other, though they did share the same ticks when it came to jealousy. If Bert wasn't in jail, waiting for the trial, then he would've tried to keep me away from Frank. Just like Lindsey was doing right now. Only he would hurt me as well, and luckily that's something Lindsey wouldn't do.

Frank hadn't responded to any of my texts I had send him since Wednesday night, not even when I send them from Lindsey's phone. Mikey did respond, telling me Frank could as well be a zombie by his looks.

He had included a picture to this statement, and I could exactly see why he was referred to as a zombie. His skin was paler than ever, dark bags under his eyes and the clothes he wore never seemed to fit. They were always too big, hiding his body in tons of fabric. He could as well be dead.

"Mr Way?" The teacher spoke up. The clock behind him told me it was now five past noon. I hummed a "yeah" as I looked up to him. I felt very confused, and I probably looked very confused as well. "Can I speak with you outside?" I nodded. "Good, grab your things and follow me."

I picked up my sketchbook and shoved my eraser and pencil in my pocket. Who needs pencil cases anyway?

"You seem distracted. Is everything okay?" He asked as soon as I closed the classroom door behind me. I bit my lip and shook my head. "Why don't you go home and I'll cover it all up for you, okay?"

"Are you serious?"

"Bloody serious. Now go!" He turned me around by my shoulders and pushed me towards the exit of the school.

I walked "home" in a slow pace, dreading to find out Frank is not actually there.

I liked this teacher. He didn't mind people going home when they didn't feel so well. He once explained us that we're his only art class and that teachers sometimes forget we also have to look after the students. He told us he used to be depressed as a teenager and that school only made it worse, so if we seem down and also dare to admit it to him, we can go home because he says it's "good to come out for how you feel", because when you come out for how you feel, you'll also allow yourself to get help easier. I liked him.

Though not in the way I like Frank. The teacher -whose name I might have forgotten- also says it's important to allow yourself to love and like in romantic senses. He also encourages us to search for loved ones, because it will make you feel happier, so it'll make you feel better.

When I reached the apartment, a frown clear on my face and my sketchbook dangling from my index finger, I found the most unexpected.

Outside the door of Lindsey and I's apartment, sat Frank. Frank didn't notice me, though. He was looking at his phone with a furious expression. He looked as if he was mad and sad at the same time, which is a dangerous combination in the wrong minds. Minds such as Bert's...

He groaned loudly and threw his phone beside him, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning his head on his arms, on top of his knees.

I was stood on the other side of the hallway, the door of the stairway still in my hand. I hadn't moved out of shock. I shrugged the feeling off of me and let go of the door, continuing my slow pace in Frank's direction. When I was halfway through the hall, the door finally shut with a loud bang.

Frank's head shot up, his mouth slightly open. He grabbed for his phone and jumped up in a smooth movement.

"Hey." He happily exclaimed, a smile on his face. Maybe he wasn't mad at me after all?

"Hey!" My voice was so loud I nearly yelled. I barely knew him and though I missed him to death, the past couple of days. "Why are you outside? Isn't Lindsey in?" He broke out in nervous laughter.

"She probably is, but I don't want my mood to be killed by her right now. Do you know a calm restaurant around? I'm buying." He switched the topic quicker than that I could blink.

"Erm, yeah, sure, let me put my sketchbook away and then I'm ready to go." I fiddled with the keys at the lock while talking.

When I opened the door, Lindsey flung herself at me. I heard Frank groan in the background and footsteps walking away. I my cheek was soon covered in kisses and probably red lipstick marks. I pushed her off me.

"What the hell, Lindsey? Is this some kind of a sick joke?" I yelled angrily.

"No, of course not. This is daily when you come home, isn't it?" A devilish smirk played on her lips and her voice was louder than usual. The footsteps that signalled Frank's departure started again.

"Fuck you, Lindsey. Fuck. You."

"Isn't that what you always do?" She had her arms crossed over her chest and the smirk was more devilish than ever. I heard the loud slam of the stairway door closing and threw my sketchbook in her face with all the force I had.

"What the hell is wrong with you." I hissed before running out the door.

Out of breath, I found Frank sitting outside the door of the building. His back was against the brick wall and he was leaning his head against it as well. His eyes were closed and his face wore a rather pained expressing.

"What the hell was that, Gerard? I thought you were gay." His voice sounded on the very verge of tears. Had what just happened really hurt him like that?

"I don't know. And yes, I am gay." I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him against my chest.

"I was so looking forward to this weekend and that witch ruins it all." I nuzzled my nose onto the top of his head.

"So was I... Do you know why she acts like this? I've never seen her acting this... possessive. I don't think I like it."

"Well, I think I know why she acts like this. It's also why I waited outside. But I don't want to discuss it here. She might come after you in this state of mind."

"Yeah, I understand that. Let's go to Jessica's, a coffee store down the road. Barely anyone comes there and the owner is nice and not nosy." I stood up, and then helped him up.

Once there, we both ordered a coffee and Frank insisted on both taking a muffin or a brownie. I took the brownie and he took a muffin.

"Okay, so on Monday, Lindsey texted me. She said she had something important to discuss with me and needed tips. She told me she has this huge crush on you." He started, looking down at his lap. "And she needed tips in how to make you realize you're not gay, but bisexual. She misses having someone to love and someone to love her." He paused again. I didn't understand why he paused, or why he refused to look me in the eyes. 

That was, until a coffee and a brownie were shoved in my eyesight. I smiled up at the girl, who was probably around the same age as I was, and told her a "thank you" in the sweetest voice I could currently manage. I was around here often and the girl -Jessica, or as she prefers: Jess- and I talk a lot about comics. 

Frank was silent for a couple of minutes after that, holding the coffee mug in both hands and taking the occasional sip of the steaming hot drink.

We were sat at the far corner of the cozy café, as far away from the window and door as possible. This was "my seat" because any other costumers could barely see you when you were sitting here and people passing by the place couldn't judge you for the way you look or because you're drawing werewolves and vampires as a nineteen year old boy. 

The café had a strong scent of fresh coffee and there always seemed to be a baking ordor in the air, proving the sweets they sold were home made and that the coffee wasn't come instant crap. The walls were decorated with a layer of old bricks and the floor was a dark wooden one. The place screamed cosines and old-fashioned-ness. I liked it a lot.

"Why didn't you give her the advice?" I asked Frank, breaking the terribly long and rather uncomfortable silence.

"I... I couldn't. I told her why I couldn't and she just started marking her territory. It's why she pulled you away from your laptop on Wednesday and it's why she just loathed you in kisses of what you still have faint marks on your cheek." After he said this I grabbed a napkin and violently started rubbing my cheek.

"Are they still there?" I moved my head a little so he could have a better angle to look at my cheek. 

"Yeah, it's gone." He sighed sadly. "She didn't agree with why I couldn't give her advice and she just marked her territory as if I didn't have feelings. She no longer cares about me, Gerard. All she will think of is getting you and keeping me away from you. She threatened me that if I stayed the night, she would kiss you in front of me and maybe even do other stuff. It's a lame threat but it hurts, you know."

For the first time since he jumped up to great me, he made eye contact with me. His eyes screamed sadness and tears threatened to spill. The eye contact was broken as soon as it was made, his eyes landing on his coffee again.

"She doesn't approve of you being totally gay. She wants you. She wants you so bad. I'm not staying the night, I hope you understand that. I just needed to talk to you. I needed to see you. After what happened on Skype I promised myself this would be the first thing I'd tell you and I simply couldn't say it over text messages. I am sorry for not replying to your texts, every time I saw your name popping up and I hit the "reply" button, the only words my thumbs could form where these. And I really am sorry, Gerard. So deeply, terribly sorry." 

"Frank can I ask you a question?" 

"Shoot." He sounded defeated. He sounded like he was on the very verge of giving up.

"Why couldn't you give her advice, Frank?" 

He took a deep breath and held it, while thinking for an answer. I was praying for him to say a certain thing, but I knew I was just getting my hopes up. No way he could like a depressed loser like me. No fucking way. 

"I fancy you, Gerard. I like you as more than a friend. I don't want to feel this way, because it'll ruin this friendship we built up forever if I'd ever stop being able to control myself." He was rambling, making hand gestures to prove his point, nearly knocking over his coffee mug in the time being. "And I understand if you don't want to talk to me again and I understand if you tell me you don't feel the same way or when you tell me we need time apart. I understand, I really do. It will hurt me deeply, but I will understand." He looked up again, a tear rolling down his pale cheek. 

He didn't show any emotion other than sadness. 

"I have to go." He said, after I didn't reply for a couple of minutes. By this time, he had finished his coffee and flipped a ten dollar bill on the table. It was probably double the amount of what it cost, but I guessed he could see Jess would need all the extra bits.

He shoved back his chair and stood up. I quietly followed him after he passed me. 

His arm reached out to open the door, but his skinny wrist was caught in my hand. I spun him around and immediately placed my other hand on the back of his neck, placing my lips on his tenderly.

"I fancy you, too, Frank." I whispered against his lips as soon as I pulled away from the brief kiss.


	9. Frank's POV

I hadn't seen Gerard since the day he told me he fancied me too. I was dying on the inside and I could barely function over the sadness that I hadn't seen him in one and a half month.

One and a half month had passed, which means it was now mid July. Mid July sounded like "end of school" in my ears at this point. I've never been more excited for school to end than now...

After some arrangements, Gerard had fixed he could move in his new apartment across from my school, the second week of summer break. He figured it would be best for Lindsey, himself and me. I had no idea why he told me "it'd be best for us", but I guess I'm going to find out soon, because it was in three weeks. Until then, I refuse to go to New York because of my fight with Lindsey that still isn't fixed yet, and due to the fact I don't have any money and no job, I won't even be able to go, even if I wanted to.

"Frank, are you ready?" I looked up from my laptop to see Donna standing in the doorframe.

"What for?" I frowned a little and bit down on my bottom lip a little.

"Gerard asked me to pick him up from the train station. He asked me to bring you, so I guessed you would've known about it." She simply shrugged. Gerard? At the train station?

A smile spread on my face as I closed my laptop, abandoning the conversation with Gerard I had going on in Twiter dms. He would understand. I then shot in my battered converse shoes and ran after Donna, who was already downstairs again. I left my phone on my bed, because I couldn't be bothered to take it with me.

Fuck, I'm going to see Gerard again. Who'd need a phone when you have Gerard to entertain you.

\---

The train station was in sight a few minutes after Donna and I had left the house to pick up her son and my- what was he? Just friends I guess? Just one more split in the road and we'd be there. I could even already see Gerard.

He was wearing a The Smiths shirt which looked brand new. He was also wearing shorts that were of knee length. His hair was shorter than the last time I'd seen him and on his feet he wore his loyal converse shoes who now had the classy addition of duct tape to keep them from falling apart. On his nose was a pair of sunglasses with a thick frame, though it was obvious he saw us coming, as he stood up and grabbed for his bag next to him, a smile gleaming on his face.

Donna speeded the car up again as the light turned green, Gerard coming closer each second. We almost passed the crossing when a flash of red caught my attention in the corner of my eye -a car speeding towards us, completely ignoring the red light.

I didn't know what was going to happen? Would he stop? Would he miss us? I was extremely terrified and many thoughts went through my head in the one second before he slammed into us. What if I'd die?

The sound of screaming and shrieking wheels against the asphalt filled my ears. My sight was long gone and the door was pushing me from my seat. The car had slammed right into my door.

\---

Black. 

Sometimes black can be very peaceful, like when you sleep or when you're passed out. Black is my favorite color. I like black. I also like that there are many different shades of black.

Colors are nice, too. Certain colors can make you feel certain emotions. Blue can be baby blue which is a cute shade of pastel blue, but it can also be dark as the night. Night sky blue can be easily confused with a shade of black. I guess it sort of is a shade of black? I don't know.

All I know is that I like calm black.

I was currently in busy, noisy black.

Next to my head was a loud beeping sound which I couldn't place. There were so many unknown sounds around me. Mumbling voices, unknown voices. Loud beeps, unknown beeps. My head was pounding with a headache.

I didn't like it. It was just like the time I broke my arm and passed out. I'm a pussy for passing out over a broken arm, but there was more than just the broken arm. The doctors said I passed out from a lack of blood, caused by a wound in my head. I was pretty sure that wound came from my fall when I passed out, though. 

Gerard.

He saw it all happening. What if he got hurt too? I mean, it did happen pretty close to him and I'm sure I heard shattering glass far away. One of the front windows of the cars could've exploded and hurt him. What if he's hurt? 

I couldn't help but feel this is sort of my fault. I should've warned Donna when I saw the car coming, but I didn't. I was too shocked to say anything. Even too shocked to scream when the destruction was done. I just... passed out...

My body felt numb and I couldn't tell if my eyes were opened or closed. I couldn't feel my eyelids. I couldn't feel my arms. I couldn't feel my legs, feet and hands. A wave of panic shot through my mind. Was I paralyzed? No, that couldn't be, I could feel a light pressure on one of my hands. 

I sucked in a deep breath for no apparent reason. I guess my brain thought it would be a good thing to do. The unknown voices now had gone away for a while, but as I hissed at the pain in my chest, they started all over again.

Where there even people in here or was I just going crazy? I didn't even know where I was. I could as well be in a mental home. 

From the breath, the pain started burning up in my chest, taking over my lungs and sending sharp stings through the rest of my body. Holy shit, the pain was burning up more than the fiery flames of fucking hell.

My eyelids was pealed open, a bright light shone into it. Before I realized what happened, I passed out again.

\---

The beeping noise came back in my hearing, the black now fading away as it made place for the bright lights and the bright white walls and ceiling. The scent that got in my nose was unmistakably the typical scent of a hospital. The first thing I noticed was that the pounding headache was no longer unbearable. It was light, barely there.

"He's awake." One of the unknown voices I'd heard before said. 

I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, to sit up and be able to see what's going on. 

"Wow, there, fella." A male nurse in blue scrubs came up to me to help me sit up a little. "I'm sorry, this is the best you're allowed to sit up." 

"Why?" My mouth was dry and came out as barely a whisper.

"You have some nasty fractured ribs." The nurse said. 

He looked like an okay nurse. The blue scrubs he was wearing were slightly baggy, and his blonde hair was messed up and held out of his face with gel. He had a nice, attractive face with sharp, prominent cheekbones and a sharp jawline. You could tell he does well with the ladies. 

I nodded understanding at his words.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" It was at these words I realized he was whispering as well.

"Why are you whispering?" A smile spread on his face as he nodded towards the far corner in the room.

"That guy over there has been here since the minute they brought you in, which is roughly one and a half day ago and he refused to sleep, until I drugged him ten minutes ago. Don't worry, though. I just gave him some basic sleeping meds. He looked awful. He could wake up just as easily as any regular sleeping person." 

"Is that even legal?" I smirked at him. 

"It was for his health, so it is." He said, a small laugh audible in his voice.

"What's your name?" 

"George. And you're Frank Iero. But seriously, can I get you anything?" He frowned a little as he ripped his eyes off the guy in the corner and turned his gaze back to me.

"Can you please get me a water? My throat hurts." He nodded with a "sure" and walked off to get me my water.

My eyes landed on the person in the chair -Gerard- again. He was positioned so he looked like a little ball, black hair sweeping over his face. His brand new The Smiths shirt was still covering his torso, although I could see a small strip of the blue waistband of his underwear. His face was set peaceful and a soft snoring sound escaped from his mouth, which hung slightly open. 

George then came back in, holding a bottle of water in his hand. 

"I wouldn't drink it all at once, if I were you. I'm going to leave you to rest now. If you feel nauseous, there's a bucket on the right next to you on the bedside table and on the left above your head is a button you can press if you need me for anything." He shot me one last friendly smile and then went out of the room.

\---

By the time Gerard woke up, I had taken three short half an hour naps and drank two small bottles of water. 

"Hey, you're awake." He spoke in a gentle tone. The sleep was still thick in his voice. I smiled at him as he sat down in the chair on my left side, grabbing my hand with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the other. "The doctors say it's a miracle you didn't break anything. Just some major bruises and fractured ribs."

"What happened to your eye brow?" He wanted to say more, but I quickly cut him off, seeing a small, white plaster on his right eye brow. 

"Oh, that's nothing. A piece of glass his my eye brow but it didn't need stitches or anything."

After that we were silent for a few minutes, just holding hands and enjoying each other's presence.

"You know." Gerard broke the silence. "You look hot with bruises on your face." 

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks and dropped my head back onto the pillow, face palming myself for how I reacted. 

"Ah, dude. Wrong timing." I groaned.

"What? Why?" He giggled. 

"I was just thinking about asking you for a kiss since I can't sit up further than this." 

"I don't see what's so wrong about my timing, then." He said, his mouth suddenly just inches away from mine. 

I placed my hand on the back of his neck and closed the small gab between us, pulling his soft looking pale lips against my dry, chapped lips. His lips were as soft as they looked and as I remembered them to be, though they were a little chapped. 

He kissed back immediately, our lips moving in sync. This was my first proper kiss, seen as the other time I kissed someone it was simply Gerard tenderly pushing our lips together. No movements or anything. 

I retreated from the kiss first, feeling that Gerard was trying his utter best to hold in.

"You don't have to hold in, you know." I whispered against his lips.

"But I don't want to hurt you." His voice was even softer than mine, eyes barely open.

"I'm drugged up, as long as you don't touch my chest, I'm fine."

"Okay, scoot over." I did as I was asked and made space for him to join me on the small, uncomfortable bed. 

As soon as he manoeuvred his body on the bed next to me, our lips were joined together again almost instantly. Gerard's hand was placed on my right cheek, thumb rubbing circles as his fingers were behind my ear. 

His tongue ran over my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I gained him this happily, but as soon as we were French kissing, he pulled back.

"Frank, it's past midnight. You should sleep." He frowned down to me.

"Yeah I know, but you should too." 

"But I just woke up." He sighed.

"I won't sleep unless you do or at least try to."

"Fine." He huffed, sounding rather annoyed. 

"Sing me to sleep?"

"But I can't sing."

"Yeah, and I can't sleep. Please?" I gave him my best puppy look. He soon gave in and sighed a "fine". 

The words he sang were the ones I'd been expecting, but his voice was way better than I'd expected.

"Sing me to sleep

Sing me to sleep

I'm tired and I

I want to go to bed

Sing me to sleep

Sing me to sleep

And then leave me alone."


	10. Gerard's POV

The car crash had been a shock on all of us, but I think it hit Mikey the most. The day after Frank woke up, mom was allowed to go home. Mikey had been home alone for over a day, freaking out over whether Frank was okay, whether mom was okay and why I was involved in it. 

I wasn't really involved, the doctors let me go home after ten minutes, but I found a way to convince Frank's nurse, George -who was extremely handsome-, to let me stay in Frank's room until he was awake. To my relief, Frank awoke sooner than the doctors had predicited, so it was only one sleep in the crappy chair and one nap in the bed, next to Frank's fragile body. 

Mikey way relieved to find out I only had a small scratch and mom only had one fractured rib and a heavily bruised wrist. No one had broken anything and mom could go back to work the following day. It hurt to see my little brother worrying over money and food like that. He had been scared mom had broken something and couldn't work for a few days or weeks, which would've resulted in less money for that period of time and no money to buy all the food they needed for that period of time. 

It hurt to see him being more mature than me. 

In fear of Frank not being patient and careful enough, the doctors kept him in the hospital for a little longer week after he woke up. To say Frank was bored would be an understatement. 

It now was a week after he was brought in, so at least two days until he was released and Frank had asked me to bring a guitar. He didn't care if it was mine or his, he didn't care if it was tuned or not. He just wanted a guitar to busy himself when there was nothing on tv and when it weren't the visitors hours. 

I could easily understand his boredom. Due to his ribs, he wasn't allowed to walk, as the doctors feared he might walk in to something. 

Why the doctors feared this? They heard mom's stories about Frank being really clumsy and bruising easily. Nice job, mom.

I truly hated hospitals, but Frank being in it all by himself made me push my hatred aside to give him company. 

Mikey and I strolled down the long, white halls. A full black, western guitar was clenched in my left hand, while my right hand was locked with Mikey's hand for some support. I had to ask Frank a very important question sooner or later and I was actually nervous for seeing him. 

I'd put my best effort in getting his guitar along, removing the thin layer of dust that had formed over the past week and tuning it. I even payed the guy at the local music store to replace the D string, as Frank had broken that. A case to bring it to the hospital with me was no where to be found, sadly. Mikey had tried stuffing it in the case of his bass, but the guitar was too thick. 

It was a nice guitar, it was thin for an acoustic and even the slap board on it was black, almost disappearing in the black guitar. The word "Gibson" was on the top of the neck, shining in a beautiful golden paint. 

I was genuinely nervous to see Frank again. I hadn't seen him in a week days due to homework and the fact I had to attend school and work. But it was Saturday again, and the teacher of my "free art period" allowed me to see Frank in stead of attending his class today. 

I was scared to say something that would mess up the chance I currently had with Frank. I was scared he'd grow sick of me soon. I was scared he didn't want to be my friend anymore soon. I was scared he wouldn't want to go serious with me and I was scared he'd see me as nothing but his temporary play toy. 

Mikey and I reached the end of the too bright lighted hall, the place where Frank's room was located. I saw George helping Frank sitting straight up, placing pillows behind his back so he'd have something to lean on. The bruises on his face were way less prominent than they were last week and I could see his chest fibrate with laughter as George knocked over his water whilst fighting with a pillow.

I stood there, watching through the small window in the door. They looked like they had become good friends, and this thought sort of terrified me. Frank never spoke about George when we were Skyping or just randomly chatting, unless I brought it up or if he walked in whilst we were skyping. 

I was honestly terrified they had something going on together that Frank was too scared to tell me about. 

I let go of my tight grip on Mikey's hand, placing it against the window. 

"Mikey," I whispered. I placed the Gibson next to me, letting the neck lean against the door post. "I think we should come back later. Or not. I don't know." 

"What's wrong, Gerard?" I heard Mikey coming closer behind me, looking through the window that was mainly covered by my long, spidery fingers. God, I hate them.

"I think we'd be interrupting."

"What makes you think that?" Mikey was now leaning against the door, desperately searching eye contact with me. 

"I... I don't know." 

"Gerard, look at me." He firmly placed his hands on both sides of my face, forcing me to look at him. "You really like Frank, and I've been talking to him a lot about it lately and he really likes you, too. George and him have nothing going on. They're just friends. Maybe not even friends. Frank says." He then reaches for his phone and starts reading out loud "No, George is just someone to distract me from the ever lasting loneliness. I don't even consider us friends. Just... I don't know? Far friends?" I sighed and turned my gaze back inside the room.

George was now cleaning up the water he'd spilled and Frank was looking straight at the wall in front of him, his expression clear: bored and unamused.

"Are you ready to go inside now?" Mikey asked, letting go of my face. I sighed once again and nodded, reaching for the guitar beside me. I stepped back a little, so Mikey could open the door and walk in first.

"Hey!" Frank exclaimed happily as he heard the door opening, he hadn't even bothered looking who we are before saying it. He probably had been expecting us. He turned his head to look at us and a bright smile spread over his face. 

"Hey there." Mikey did a small wave with his hand, to let it drop to his side again afterwards.

"Oh, Gerard! You remembered to get my guitar! And you even fixed the string!" He looked giddily from the guitar in my hand, to my face and back to the guitar.

And then back to my face as I numbly stood in the doorway. I forced myself to put myself over the anxious feelings in my stomach and stepped inside the room, nearing Frank's bed and sitting down in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Mikey.

"Yeah," I let a ghost of a smile creep on my face. "Here." I wanted to give it to him, but he shook his head, asking me if I could put it against his bedside table. 

"Gerard, why do you look so pale? Well, paler than usual." A worried frown was on his face, his eyes showing a genuine expression.

I opened my mouth to talk, but I couldn't think of a proper excuse without embarrassing myself. 

After a few moments of thinking, I had found an explanation, but I wanted George to leave the room first. I opened my mouth to speak up and ask him to leave, as he himself spoke up, announcing he was leaving and that if any of us needed anything, we could buzz him up. The damn guy could read my mind.

"Yeah," I started as I heard the door shut behind me. "I need to talk to you about something that's been on my chest for quite a while now." He nodded slowly.

"That's something we have in common then." He grinned at me.

"Does any of you want me to leave the room?" Mikey asked, already half standing up and expecting the answer "yes". 

"No." Frank and I said in unison as I reached for Mikey's hand to hold. 

"Then I suggest Gerard goes first." He declares. I swallowed loudly and nodded, looking down at my feet.

"Frank, I-" I swallowed again, now looking up to meet his tired, yet happy eyes. "I really, really like you. And I- no, I can't do this." I dropped the eye contact and looked down at my feet.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Frank said, stealing the words I was too scared of saying from my mouth. My gaze shot back up to his, fear clear. At this moment, I realized I'd taken too long with thinking of a reply and actually replying. 

I did want to be his boyfriend, yes. But what if I fucked up? From boyfriends and what I'd eventually want from him would have no point of return. You can't fuck, break up and expect every thing to go back to normal. I've experienced it once with Bert and I was not looking forward to experience it again with Frank. 

"I-" I stuttered,

"Of course you don't." Frank's expression turned hard and he clenched his jaw, flopping back down onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. If looks could kill I'd be long gone. "Why would you, Gerard Way who has it all, want to be my, Frank Iero who barely has anything, boyfriend. I mean, I;m awful, fat, hideous and really fucking mean and annoying. You, on the other hand, are sweet, caring, gorgeous-"

"Stop it!" I shrieked. "I am none of those things and neither are you. Frank, to me you are perfect. The definition of that is without a flaw, but I am willing to look beyond your flaws. You're perfect, you're the sweet and caring one. You're the one with the beautiful face. Not me. Definitely not me. And yes, I would like to be your boyfriend." I resisted the urge to walk out of the room and go back to my place in New York to pack for my moving, but I couldn't.

"Are you family from Mr. Iero?" A man in a white coat opened the door to Frank's room. 

"Yes. My parents are his guardians." Mikey said. 

"Is one of you above the age of 18?" The man's next question was. 

"I am." My voice still sounded shaky from my previous outrage of Frank calling himself down like that and the anxiety that I've been feeling ever since I set foot in this hospital, half an hour ago.

"Good. Can you please sign these papers? Mr. Iero will be good to go home if you do." A smile spread on all three of our faces as we heard the words. I gradually took the pen and paper he held out for us and signed the given area.

"Have a safe trip back home, Mr. Iero and I hope I won't see you again soon. Be careful, though. Don't take too many heavy jobs on yourself the following week. For your own health. Have a safe trip home!" He winked and turned around , leaving the room.

"Now, Frank." I turned back to Frank as soon as the doctor left the room. "If you get changed now, I'll take you back to my place. School's over so we have a week to pack my shit and hang out." 

The previous smile on his face came back, bright as ever as he happily nodded his head. 

"Sounds great! Let me change and pack some shit at Mikey's house and I'll be good to go." Even his voice was laced with the happy smile on his face. 

"Great!" Mikey spoke. "Gerard and I will be waiting for you in the hall."

\---

"You do have a lot of stuff to pack." Frank sighed as he carefully sat down on the edge of my bed, a cardboard box between his spread open legs. He was carefully packing all my precious comic books into boxes, whilst I took the heavier stuff on myself.

"Yeah... There's some shit at the other apartment as well." 

"Why do you even still have that apartment?" He titled his head slightly as he looked up to me from where he was stacking comics.

"It functioned as a storage. Basically what this room was before I moved into it."

After a few minutes had passed, he let out a breathy laugh and set the now full box down, closing it off with duct tape, muttering something about "kill your boyfriend".

He looked back up to where I was leaning against the wall next to my book shelf, a smile still prominent on his face.

"Aren't you going to do anything, you lazy fag?" He asked me in a playful manner. I pushed my self upright and walked over to him in a threatening manner until I was inches away from his face, his breath hitting my face.

"I'm a fag, huh?" I asked him bitterly, he just laughed and nodded. "Would a fag do this?" I placed a hand on the back of his neck and attacked his lips with my own. 

"A fag totally would." He said after shortly breaking off the kiss, replacing the cold air with his lips again.


	11. Frank's POV

I hadn't been in many relationships yet, Gerard being my second official boyfriend.

I'd had three girlfriends -who never lasted long enough to get some out of it- and a boyfriend, James Dewees.

James always seemed to be a closed book. A closed book with too high expectations. He was three years older than me, which means he's the same age as Gerard. Though that's probably the only thing the two have in common.

For our half year together anniversary he wanted to have sex with me. I refused this "offer" as polite as I could, but the only thing that resulted in was being beaten and forced down on my knees. As a fourteen year old.

I didn't know what to do once his dick was in my mouth, so my early teenage, perverted mind came up with the only thing that was close to a blow job -attempting to reenact a blow job scene from the only porn I'd ever seen.

The abuse had gotten on for another two months. That was when my parents decided to move from Belleville to Hoboken. And I had never been happier in my short life.

That was, until now. Laying on the soft, new couch in the apartment with nothing but plain white walls, laying on the chest and stomach of my beautiful, loving boyfriend who was lightly stroking my back. Boxes were stacked up in random places of the rooms where the insides belonged, the bedroom also containing a box with a few shirts, jeans and underwear that belonged to me.

Gerard and I had quickly became attached to the hip, with him moving back to his home town and me staying over in New York for a week, helping him pack.

Dating Dewees was uncertain. During five of the seven months we were together, I wasn't entirely sure if it was what I wanted and Dewees had always been extremely understanding towards the confusion about my sexuality.

Dewees had never gotten mad when I was checking out other girls in the first five months. He never got mad about anything. He allowed me to think a girl was hot and he allowed me to check out other guys's asses.

But that all came back at me at the same speed after the terrible blow job I'd given him and the first beating.

But it was two and a half year ago when I last saw him. And now I have Gerard in my life. I honestly couldn't wish for any other boyfriend, simply because no one would be that imperfectly perfect as Gerard is.

"Can I see how bad the bruises are now?" Gerard whispered against my hair, breaking the comfortable silence. 

"Yeah, sure." I sat up between his legs, leaning on the backs of my leg. I watched him sitting up in a comfortable position as well, with me still positioned between his legs.

"Can I?" He gestured to my red "Homophobia is gay" shirt that was a size or two too big. I nodded and he carefully reached to my shirt up to reveal my yellowing bruises. It looked gross, just like my face.

There was a cut along the side of my face, a bright yellow bruise had formed on my nose and under my eye and a few scratches along my left cheek. He sotfly traced the yellow blob on my chest with his finger and then let himself fall backwards on the couch again, grabbing a cherry from the bowl on the ground.

"You know," I started. "You've been eating those for half an hour and haven't even asked if I want one." I stated, my shirt still up, held up by pushing my arms against the rolled up fabric.

I slowly rolled down my shirt as Gerard popped an other cherry in his mouth.

"You want a cherry, now?" He asked with the cherry in his mouth and a smirk presented on his face.

"Yeah, wh-" I was cut of my Gerard placing his open mouth on my own and pushing the cherry inside my mouth. I chewed and swallowed, a disgusted grimace on my face. "That was so gross. You're going to pay for that." I told him, as I launched myself on him, pulling him off the couch with me.

"Stop that making out and help Pete and me with your fucking furniture." Mikey sounded lightly pissed off as he walked into the living room, grabbed the bowl of cherries and walked out again.

"In a second, Mikey!" I yelled, craning my neck to maybe catch a glimpse from him as he walked back outside. I heard a faint "whatever" and climbed off Gerard.

"Are you sure you can do that, with your ribs and all?" Gerard sat up, frowning at me. 

"Yeah, I'm still on painkillers so that should be fine. Really, don't worry." I stood up and ran a hand through his jet black hair that obviously needed a wash and a re-dye as I walked past him.

"Here, you carry this." Pete shoved a small coffee table in my hands while chewing loudly on a cherry as soon as I set a foot outside of the apartment building. 

"Hey, Pete, help me out for a second okay?" I asked him as I walked towards the elevator with the table in my hands. He just followed without saying a word. The elevator door opened and I put the table in it, letting lean against a steel wall on its side. "Just stand in the door while I'm getting more shit that can fit in." He shrugged and did what I asked.

I liked Pete. He didn't give a single fuck and his attitude and the way he looked really showed that he didn't. He was always wearing either too big jeans or sweatpants -no matter what weather- and a baggy tank top always covered his top half, sometimes combined with a hoodie, which would also be too big. His feet were always clad in sneakers and sometimes even in Ugg boots, which I personally didn't quite understand. His hair was black and a mess and messily done eyeliner always rimmed his eyes. He'd also always find a way to show off the few tattoos he has. 

As I made my way to the moving truck, I saw the last person I'd want to see in a moment like this. 

Her back was turned towards me and her short, brown hair was hanging loose. She was conversing with Mikey, who obviously didn't enjoy the conversation they were having much and was utterly annoyed by her presence. He never liked her much, to my liking. 

"Hey, Mikey." I started, obviously ignoring her presence. Mikey seemed happy with my sudden appearance and a smile grew on his face when he saw me. "Is there something in the truck that would fit in the elevator with the table?" 

She now also had seemed to recognize my voice and turned around, throwing herself in my arms while screaming "Frankie!". I always hated that nickname, especially out of her mouth. 

"Get off of me, Jamia." I shoved her away, but as soon as she was detached from my body, her lips found the way to my cheek. Mikey quickly shoved a chair in my hands and pushed me towards the door. When in the elevator, I pulled Pete inside and pressed the button for the first floor.

Once the door was closed I could hear the muffled sound of Mikey raising his voice to Jamia and telling her to get the fuck away.

\---

"So what was that girl I heard Mikey talking to you about?" Gerard asked as he was jumping to get into his star wars pajama pants. 

"Ah, just an annoying ex girlfriend that doesn't want to leave me alone." I shrugged, admiring the view of him struggling with his pants from on the bed. 

"Really now? I bet you like that attention." A tad of bitterness laced his words as he climbed under the black covers next to me. As soon as his back hit the mattress, I draped myself over his upper body, my nose touching his.

"The only attention I like is yours." I whispered, pressing my lips against his. I heard him giggle softly before the clapped his hand around the back of my head, starting to move our lips together in sync. 

The kiss quickly became more heated, scraping teeth and tongue. Gerard's hands found their way under my shirt, his hands flat on my shoulder blades. He made no intention of flipping us over, which I took in advantage. 

My moved my hands to the bottom of his shirt, my legs straddling his waist. I slowed the kiss down a little, moving my hands under his shirt and stopping them on his chest, covering his nipples with my hands. After roughly stroking up and down on them, I moved my hands up to his collarbones, signaling I wanted his shirt off. 

He sat up a little, allowing me to pull of his oversized batman shirt after he pulled off my own star wars shirt. I roughly pushed him back on his back, hovering over him and placing my lips on his neck. He pulled my pants off my ass -which was slightly up in the air-, leaving my ass in just my underwear as he can't get them any further down than halfway my thighs. 

I was softly nipping the sensitive skin on his neck, slowly sucking a dark purple mark on the crook. I felt his body squirm, as I licked over the purple bruise in his neck, a soft moan escaping his mouth. Through the thin material of our pajamas, I could feel his hard on pressing against my own. I was eager to do something about it, but also eager not to rush this. 

His hands went from the small of my back to cup my underwear clad ass, gripping it hard. I moaned against his neck and moved up my mouth to place an other hickey under his ear. I bit the tender skin, hearing him let out a rather whore-ish moan. I gently rocked my hips down on his, feeling his body squirm even more. 

I grinned against the back of his ear, taking his ear lope between my teeth and tugged on it lightly. He let out an other moan, throwing his head slightly back with his mouth open. I placed my open mouth on his and kissed him roughly, tongue and teeth scraping again as both our lips and hips moved in sync. 

I moved my hands from the sides of his chest to the waistband of his pajama pants, hooking my fingers behind both the waistband of his pajamas and of his boxers. As I moved them an inch down, I felt the wet heath of his mouth leave mine and his hands removed mine from his waistbands.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, my head now lowered to his shoulder.

"I-I don't think I'm ready for this, yet. I'm sorry." He whispered back, dropping my hands. One fell down on his crotch and the other on his thigh. I placed the hand on his crotch on his chest and rolled off him, laying next to him on my left side, his right arm loosely draped around my shoulder. "Like, sure someday I would want to, but just not now, you know, be-" he started rambling. 

"That's okay." I cut him off, kissing his jawline. "Hey, you know what?" He turned his gaze from the ceiling to me, our noses almost touching.

"What?" 

"You can dominate me, and do whatever you feel comfortable with doing."

"Can we just go back to making out?" A shy grin spread on his face as he asked me this.

"Sure." I shrugged, rolling back on top of him, straddling his waist once again while replacing the cold air on my lips with the wet heath of his lips.

\---

"Okay, so I think we have to discuss some things." Gerard started after taking a sip of his coffee, looking down to look me in the eyes. We were positioned on the corner sofa in his living room, my head placed on his lap. 

"Sure, what about?" I smiled up at him, sliding my phone in the pocket of my pajama pants. 

"About last night and things like that." He sighed. "But I don't know how to start this, so how about you just ask questions first." I nodded and started thinking.

After a good few minutes of a comfortable, yet tense silence, I came up with five questions I wanted to ask Gerard.

"Okay." I said, sitting up, my arm on the back rest of the couch and my face close to his. "Are you a virgin?"

"Sort of? I haven't topped anyone" He looked down at the mug of coffee in his hands, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"Have you ever bottomed?" 

"I have, obviously, the, erm, thing with Bert that day." He sighed. The frown on his face as he stared down in his coffee with a pained expression showed he did not like to think back to that day. 

"That's okay." I shrugged, leaning my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his waist, snuggling into the fabric of his shirt. "What's the furthest you've ever gone?"

He took a deep breath, the pained expression disappearing from his eyes. "Both genders?" He asked me, turning his head to look at me. I nodded onto his shoulder and he took another deep breath. "I've received a hand job and blow job of a girl before I was sure about my sexuality and I've also given a girl oral." I scrunched up my nose a little and buried my face in the fabric of his shirt some more. "I've given and received both a hand job and a blow job from my ex boyfriend, and bottomed with him, and that's basically all."

"And what do you like?"

"Basically everything you did last night." 

"And do you have any kinks?" 

"Not that I'm aware of." 

"Your turn." I let go of him and went to sit on my knees beside him, resting on the backs of my legs. 

"Answer all the things I just had to answer." He simply stated, turning a little towards me. 

"I am not a virgin, I haven't bottomed, I've given and received hand jobs and oral from to and from both genders and had sex with one of my two ex girlfriends, I like being dominated and I have a blindfold kink and I really don't mind being tied up." I spoke quickly, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. 

He didn't reply, he just gave me a mysterious looking smirk.


	12. Gerard's POV

Frank was sat opposite me, in the corner of the corner sofa. He had his knees clenched to his chest, his arms safely wrapped around it as he leaned his head against his knees.

His dark hair was falling over his face, occasionally moving when he would let out a shaky breath. Even the way he breathed was sat.

He quietly shifted his body, trying to hide himself in the back pillows behind him. I knew how he felt. I could easily understand it.

He wanted to disappear from all living forms. Not die either. Just, vanish from the earth. Not leaving any marks behind of his departure and also vanishing from everyone's minds.

He hadn't told me what's wrong. I opened the door after he knocked on it, and once it was open he stormed in sat in the spot he sat then. The only words exchanged were "stay away". But it wasn't in an angry manner. More in a sad, sort of caring manner.

I obeyed and sat down on the other end of the sofa, my legs crossed and my head laying on the back rest and I stared at him with sad eyes. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn't have the guts to.

I didn't want him to snap at me, I didn't want to make him angry, I didn't want to make him sadder. I wanted to know what my beautiful boyfriend was going through.

I sighed and ran a hand through my greasy hair, my other hand still on the fabric of my Star Wars pajama bottoms. His head shot up as I sighed, as if he forgot I was there as well, waiting for him to open up.

"Gerard, I..." He said. He didn't look like he was going to finish his sentence, his sad, bloodshot eyes focused on his thighs as he let his legs slight down.

"Frank, wha-what's wrong? What happened?" My voice came out shakily and softer than expected. I shuffled to halfway the couch, placing my hand on his hand on his thigh.

"I-I am so awful." He hiccuped. The sadness and sincerity behind his words was hitting me like a train, causing tears to well up in my eyes.

"No, Frank, no. Don't say that, you're not-"

"I am, Gerard!" He bursted out, standing up to his feet and throwing his arms around. His hand gripped around the handle of a mug, which was quickly thrown at the wall. "I am awful. I'm selfish, I'm hideous and I'm a nasty, nasty human being. I don't deserve your attention. Over the past weeks, Mikey has said nothing but good things about you and how you used to be. You were amazing and you are amazing. I am not like you, Gerard. I'm awful."

I couldn't understand how such a small person could carry such a huge self-hatred in him. I guess it was true you cannot read someone from the outside. Frank was troubled, I could see that now. He had self-esteem issues, anger issues and probably many, many more.

"Frank, please don't talk about yourself like that. You have no idea how I look at you." My voice was starting to shake, partially scared of his what his next outburst would be.

"I am, Gerard." He sighed, his voice losing its power. "Love is blind and lovers cannot see. You are my lover, therefor, you are blind to my flaws. Oblivious to my looks. I have to go now, Gerard. I need some time alone. Please, don't follow me." He ended, placing a kiss on my forehead and exiting my apartment calmly.

Once he was gone, tears of what I assumed was sadness, fear and pity started streaming down my face, causing loud sobs to follow next. I cried -and nearly screamed- for a good half hour, until my eyes were dry and red and my throat felt raw.

My shaking hands reached to my phone, dialing the first number I could come up with. The phone rang a good minute before the familiar voice filled my ear.

"Hey!" Mikey happily exclaimed as he answered his phone.

"Hey, Mikes." I sighed sadly, sniffing a little.

"Oh shit, Gerard, what's wrong?" I could picture his face turning from a happy smile to a caring frown, as the concern now dripped from his voice.

"C-Can you please come over, I think we need to discuss something serious." I started to hiccup again, my eyes burning and the feeling of needing to cry coming back in my stomach.

"Yes, sure. I'll be there in ten minutes." Mikey said. I could hear he was already running down the stairs, coming my way wether I liked it or not.

\---

Exactly ten minutes later the doorbell rang, followed by impatient knocks. I wiped my nose and pushed myself off the counter to open the door.

In the living room there still were tiny pieces of glass covering the floor, though the main part had disappeared in my trash can.

A few seconds later, Mikey was sat on my couch, a steaming hot mug of coffee in his hands.

"Is Frank severely depressed? With, like, voices and everything?" I asked Mikey, not really knowing how to start the conversation or being the topic up. Mikey responded my spurting the coffee he had just taken in his mouth back in the mug.

"Gross." He complained first, looking down in his mug. Then, his gaze turned to me. "I think he is. I've never hurt him talk about it and I've never spoken about it with him or mom, but I really think he is. But I think that's included in his morning pills as well."

"He's been skipping those pills, hasn't he?" I asked sadly, looking down in my mug. I was too scared to face Mikey, which would mean facing the truth about Frank. Maybe I could find out why scars littered his lower arms when he was back on his medication.

"Only this morning, I think, but seen by the look of those shattered pieces of your favorite mug, he really did skip them today. He's a total wreck when he doesn't take them. He goes insane, terrifyingly close to being able to kill himself. Was there anything odd about his departure?"

"Yes." I slowly nodded. "He was very quiet and calm out of the sudden. Telling me not to follow him once he'd left."

"Gerard, we can panic. Please, call him. If he does answer, pretend you're really really hurt and need him with you now. If he obeys I'm going to get his pills, if he doesn't answer, we'll have to search him."

And so I called. And called. And called. After my fourth time of going to voicemail after a painful long wait of annoying beeps, I stood up and shot in my batted down shoes, grabbing my car and house keys on my way out.

"Okay, best we can do," Mikey started, slightly out of breath, is start looking at the park, then we can go to the bridge and lastly we can search in and around the woods." I sighed, nodded and started the engine.

Walking through the park, tense and aware of every sound around us, we easily picked up on a happy, recognizable pot giggle. I've heard it many times when I got high and cuddle with Frank and I grew to love it more than anything.

We followed the sound, coming from behind the tree. We there found Frank, giggling his ass off, another boy with flaming pink hair that was in a mohawk with the sides shaved and a girl with ginger, curly hair. It was obvious the two were an item.

"Oh god." I exclaimed, causing Frank to look up at me.

"Oh, Gerard! What's wrong?" He happily asked me. All anger, sadness and all other emotions were vanished from his face, being replaced by a happy grin. I sunk to my knees besides him and wrapped my arms around his fragile body, burying my face in his neck and I immediately felt his arms wrap back around my waist.

"I was so worried about you. So worried you'd do something stupid." I sighed into his shirt.

"Well, I think getting high with a school friend and his girlfriend in a public park, is sort of stupid, Gerard." He started giggling again, his body vibrating.

"It sort of is." I started giggling along with him, though not as hard and happy as him. Just a slightly amused giggle. "Hey, Frank." I let go of my tight embrace to look him in the eyes.

"Yes?" He asked, a smile prominent on his face.

"How about we get you your medication and then go watch some movies at my place. We can cuddle and eat snacks and do whatever you like." I proposed, beaming a smile back at him.

"Yeah! That sounds great!" He exclaimed, placing a soft kiss on my lips. He then made his way over to the couple and placed a kiss on both their cheeks. "Bye James, bye Chantie!" He waved at them as he walked between me and Mikey, towards the exit of the park, towards my car.

\---

"Frank, why were you at the park? And why stoned, if I may ask?" I asked him as he shoved this third raspberry poptart in his mouth. You could say he was having a mild case of munchies.

"Well, pretty face, I was forced to visit my parents this morning, it being summer and all, y'know, and then my dad started beating me because I, and I quote, "suddenly wasn't too much of a pansy to visit the parents I had abandoned so brutally"." There was a slight giggle hidden in his voice, the weed he had making the whole situation seem funnier.

"How about, you get some sleep, and we'll talk about this when you're clean." I gave him a timid smile. He happily nodded and jumped up from the kitchen chair. 

"Gerard?" He whispered, once he was under the covers. I was securely placed under his arm, my cheek against the side of his chest. I felt his lips on my hair and looked up.

"Yes?" I followed him in whispering.

"How did I-" He paused his sentence to yawn, his eyes almost closed as he was close to falling asleep. "How did I get so lucky to have you?" And with that, his eyes closed and his head softly tilted to the side. 

I grinned to myself in the semi-dark room, the curtains closed for Frank, but they still let through a dim light. Over the past four weeks that I'd been living here, I'd decided to leave all the walls in the apartment their original white, for the time being. Soon enough they'd be filled with pictures, drawings, posters and other shit anyway, so what's the point of spending all my money on paint, anyway. 

I pushed myself up, placed a kiss on Frank's cheek and forehead and made my way to the kitchen. Once there, I noticed it was 5PM and I'd better start thinking of something for dinner for Frank and I, once he'd woken up.

I laid down on the couch in the living room, thinking about what meal I could possibly make Frank really happy with. It had to be easy, yet tasteful.

"What's your favorite food?" Frank asked, a small pot giggle escaping his lips after the question was finished.

"Give me that." I giggled along with him, pushing myself up to reach for the joint in his fingers, only to be pushed back down onto my back again and my waist being straddled by his tiny body.

"Answer me, first." He said in a rather playful manner. 

"Okay, fine." I sighed, a giggle followed. "I really would never pass a plate of spaghetti with clean tomato sauce. No vegetables, not meat, just some fucking tomato sauce and I'll be the happiest person ever." 

His eyes lit up at my words. "Really?" A shimmer in his eyes. "That's my runner up! My all time favorite would most likely be a vegetarians lasagna." He sighed and looked slightly dreamy down at me, placing the end of the joint between my lightly parted lips. 

I took a drag and as I puffed it out, a few seconds later, it was accompanied by the question, "Vegetarian, huh?" He nodded proudly.

"I've been a vegetarian as long as I can remember. Though I think that would be a weird statement. I can't even remember what I ate last night or what I did a week ago." We both giggled and he squirmed himself between the tiny gap between me and the couch, forcing me onto my side, my nose touching his.


End file.
